


My Children's Faces

by WriterWolfe618



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, R Plus L Equals J, Rhaella Targaryen Lives, Rickon Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:18:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterWolfe618/pseuds/WriterWolfe618
Summary: Rhaella Targaryen can never forget her children's faces, and it is the face of her firstborn that she sees in the King in the North when he comes to Dragonstone to meet with her daughter.





	1. The Face of her Son

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so I just had this idea running through my head as I was working today, and managed to finish it much quicker than I anticipated. This is definitely a major change in the way things happen, but that's the point of writing our own stories.
> 
> A little backstory just so I don't confuse anyone.  
> Rhaella Targaryen did not die in childbirth, but she was seperated from Viserys and Daenerys as they fled across the Narrow Sea. She too made it to Essos, but was quickly held as a sort of prisoner of Illyrio Mopatis, who intended to use her as more proof that his Blackfyre son was the real Aegon Targaryen. He kept her and her children seperate, and she only barely heard of them. Eventually, (after 6x10), when Daenerys stopped in Pentos, Illyrio revealed "Aegon" and her mother, intending for Rhaella to confirm that Aegon was the real deal. Rhaella did no such thing and told the truth. In the resulting rage from Daenerys, both Illyrio and fAegon were killed. Mother and daughter were reunited, and they sailed together to Dragonstone (7x01).

RHAELLA

The wild sea winds and volcanic air felt invigorating for the Queen Mother. For a moment she just stood outside on the balcony of the chamber of Aegon's Painted Table, enjoying the freedom of fresh air and the open sky, something she had long been without. Unfortunately, the outside world would have to wait, as the conversation inside was well on its way to become a full blown argument. She made it to her seat just as her daughter stood up and slapped her hands upon the table, glaring at her Hand across from her.

"I do not care how many ways you spin it Tyrion, I will not be marrying your brother Jaime. Even if he wasn't twice my age or the man that killed my father, right reasons or not, he would still never be an option."

"I understand your hesitation, and believe me, I am not putting my brother's name forward simply because he is my brother. Of the few remaining eligible bachelors, he is one of the only ones that could truly show you will be different from your father."

At that Rhaella had to scoff and lean forward to address her friend's son.

"Ser Jaime once told me that the last thing he ever wanted was to be the Lord of Casterly Rock. He would have chosen the Kingsguard himself had my husband not plucked him from your father's grasp. How could he ever be a good king if he refused to even try to be a Lord. Besides, we all know that there is a much better option if my daughter wishes to prove herself different."

Everyone's darted to look at her, but she kept her gaze upon her daughter. After she nodded towards her mother, Rhaella continued,

"Now, I must admit, having his name given to us by a Red Priestess no less is not the norm, but in almost any way you look at it, King Jon Stark will either be our greatest ally or one of our worst enemies. He rules the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands thanks to his brother's Will. If you were to marry him, it would fulfil the pact of Ice and Fire, which would do wonders to repairing the relationship between the North and the Throne. If marriage turns out not to be a valid option for whatever reason, then an alliance would still be in our best interests."

"Mother, if we were to marry, I could not give him ..."

Rhaella cut her off,

"I was told multiple times by men much smarter than that witch of yours that I would never bare a child, and yet I still gave birth to both you and your brother Viserys long after. I refuse to believe what that witch said. You are not barren, daughter, you are simply healing."

"It has been over half a decade, and you weren't there to hear her words."

A frosty silence enveloped the room. Her daughter's supposed infertility was probably the only subject that the two of them still argued about, even after being just reunited. After a moment, Tyrion cleared his throat and began to speak,

"Speaking as someone who knows Jon, I can honestly say without hesitation that he is a good man and would be a loyal ally and or husband. What makes me hesitate as your Hand, are the questions that constantly come up when his name is mentioned. According to our reports, Robb Stark's Will released from the Watch, legitimized him, and made him his heir, but Jon left the Wall and took Winterfell before he ever learned of that Will. What made him desert the Night's Watch, and why would the North still follow him? Rickon Stark is at Winterfell as well, and yet they still chose Jon to be King? I can understand King Regent, but why would they name a bastard their King if a trueborn option was available. Even my former wife, the now Lady Hardyng would have had more claim to Winterfell than he did. It also is quite alarming that a large portion of his staunchest supporters are Wildlings that he let through the gates of Castle Black when he was Lord Commander. How can this man be a good king, if he seems so readily willing to break any sort of vow? And even if there is somehow some reasonable explanation for all of that, the Northerners will never forget what happened the last time a Targaryen interacted with a Stark, and I am not just speaking of Lord Rickard and his firstborn. Your brother Rhaegar did your family no favors when he ran off with Lyanna Stark."

Rhaella tried to keep her mouth shut, but at the last moment she muttered a few words under her breath. Unfortunately the room was as quiet as a crypt, so her voice was heard by all.

"My son did not kidnap Lady Lyanna, he married her."

The reactions of the room varied per person. The unflinching Grey Worm and the Naathi translator Missandei showed little reaction, but that was understandable. Lord Tyrion spat out his wine and began to cough. The Spider had a look of satisfaction, like he had been proven right, while Ser Barristan had a look of relief in his eyes. Her daughter was the one she focused on the most. Her queenly persona only cracked a bit, but it was enough to let her know that she was just as shocked as the rest of them. It was Varys however who spoke up first,

"I myself long suspected that Robert's version was merely the victor's truth, but the idea of them marrying so quickly was not something that crossed my mind. What of Princess Elia and the Faith?"

Rhaella held up her hand.

"I only heard parts of it from Elia herself before I and Viserys were sent to Dragonstone. From what she told me, she had decided to be in favor of it due to Rhaegar promising to keep the real Aegon and Rhaenys right where they were in the line of succession. I personally at first was against it when I first learned of it, but when I learned of it from their sides I understood it better. Besides, in his last letter to me, Rhaegar informed me that Lyanna was with child when he left her with Ser Arthur and the others."

"A child?" whispered Daenerys.

"Yes. The babe and Lyanna died obviously, but for a time I had thought of arranging a betrothal between you and that child once I learned of you, had Rhaegar won."

Everyone took a moment to process the information. As Rhaella scanned the room, Tyrion once again cleared his throat and began to speak,

"This could help in repairing relationships with the North, if we had proof of the marriage. However this does nothing with the problem that is the King in the North."

"And what exactly is the problem with the King in the North? Do be specific Lord Hand, I am tiring of your theatrical explanations that take hours to convey a single thought." said Daenerys.

Tyrion reached over and finished his glass of wine before he replied,

"Basically the problem lies within the title Jon has acquired. If you decide to acknowledge him as King in the North, than that would mean acknowledging the legitimacy of Robb Stark as King in the North due to his Will. That means officially acknowledging the North, the Riverlands, and also the Vale as kingdoms independent from the Iron Throne. You have to wage war against my sister to take back the Seven Kingdoms, only it will be just for Four Kingdoms. The rest you would have to earn back probably through marriage to Jon Stark, but that will most likely take months of negotiations even if everything runs smoothly."

Daenerys frowned a bit before leaning back in her chair.

"What are my options in regards to gaining the allegiance of the Northern Kingdoms."

"From the way I am looking at it, you have only two. You can either refuse to acknowledge his title and claim, and demand Jon Snow to come to Dragonstone and bend the knee, or you can formally recognize those kingdoms as independent from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms and request that you and King Jon Stark begin to open up negotiations in regards towards a potential alliance. The first would be the simplest and quickest, but you would probably shatter any sort of hope of healing the rift between the North and South, at least in the next few lifetimes. The second, as I said before, would be more complicated and would take longer. You might win the Iron Throne before Jon even comes to the table himself to negotiate."

All eyes turned to the Queen. Rhaella herself knew what she would do, but she couldn't make the decisions for her daughter, especially not now. She had grown up, and was her own woman. For the millionth time the Queen Mother cursed the Pentoshi for keeping her from her daughter and son while they were unknowingly all living in his manse. After what seemed like an hour, her daughter stood up and declared,

"Send a raven to Winterfell and offer to negotiate with the King in the North in order to formerly create an alliance. Before we receive a response, I want you to send your little birds north as well, Lord Varys. I would like to know the truth behind Jon Stark as well, and I would like to know it as soon as possible."

As the weeks went by, Varys began to tell a story that was quite similar to the one Daenerys had told her when they sailed from the ruins of Pentos to Dragonstone. Rhaella couldn't help but be impressed with the young man that was chosen to be the leader of his people, and she could easily tell that her daughter was as well. She could even sense a sort of excitement coming from her as more and more of Jon Stark's past was revealed. Varys couldn't find everything, and what he did have was unclear at best, but the picture it painted was that of an honorable man desperate to do the right thing because it was the right thing. He was even willing to die for it, and if some of the more wild stories Varys brought back were true, he already had.

Everyone was surprised when a raven from Winterfell returned agreeing to start negotiations, but they were all shocked when the King in the North himself was coming with his retinue to Dragonstone. The morning the Northern ship was spotted coming towards the island fortress, Rhaella quickly mentioned to her daughter,

"You are a Queen, and have earned every one of your titles, though I wish that the accompanying scars and pain that came with them you did not have to suffer. Jon Stark is also a King, and if half the stories Varys has told us, he too has also earned his titles."

That afternoon, as the King in the North and his small band of advisors partook in the ceremony of Guest Rights with her daughter within the throne room of Dragonstone, Rhaella Targaryen was shocked into silence. Even when she was practically held prisoner after Dragonstone, she never forgot the faces of her children. They kept her going through the many years of darkness, and she could practically draw them perfectly from memory. As her daughter began to speak, Rhaella could only stare in stunned awe. There, wearing the Crown of Winter and donning a fur coat, with long dark hair and grey eyes, was the face of her firstborn son.


	2. The Dragons Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negotiations fall apart, truths are revealed, and tears are shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the responses to this little story idea I had are absolutely astounding. From the bottom of my heart, thank you all very much. As I said to you all, I am continuing this story, and as thanks, here is chapter 2. Please enjoy.

RHAELLA

He did not know who he was, that much was made very clear in their introductions. Rhaella wanted nothing more than to rush over and embrace her only living grandson, the only thing she had left of Rhaegar, her firstborn son. She barely noticed as a large white wolf walked by her to sniff at her daughter's outstretched hand, and was still standing as everyone turned to look at her as they all sat down at the table. She shook her head and sat at her daughter's left side, facing across from a small man with sharp green eyes. He looked intently at her, and his gaze flickered back to his King before he brushed a finger across his lips. The mystery of how this man knew was quickly solved when Jon began to speak just like his father but with a northern accent,

"And this is Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch, a loyal bannerman of House Stark and a good friend of my father."

More introductions were made, but Rhaella wasn't paying attention to any of them. It was obvious to her why no one would have doubted Ned Stark's word, her grandson strongly favored his mother. But there were small things, like the shape of his brow and lips, the way he acted, and even his voice all revealed his true sire. From the short gasp and cough from Ser Barristan behind them, Rhaella was certain he had seen it too. Tyrion had not yet made the connection but that was to be expected, seeing as he had never seen Rhaegar before. Her daughter was also seemingly enraptured by the King in the North, though she was good at hiding it from everyone at the table except her mother, but she did not recognize the man that was her nephew.

"I must say Jon, we were all very surprised when you yourself said you would come to negotiate. I was expecting you to send someone else in your stead."

"Well Tyrion, at first I wasn't going to come, but certain circumstances changed that. Before we begin, I have a few things I would like to give to Queen Daenerys."

With that he reached into a satchel one of his men handed him and put a large packet of papers on the table in front of him. As he pushed them towards her daughter, he began to speak,

"These are letters from the Maester at Castle Black, your great uncle Aemon. He had heard much about you, and was planning on traveling to Essos to meet with you before his health took a turn for the worse. Before that happened, he had many letters written to you for him. The new Lord Commander found these in his chambers and sent them to me a few months ago."

Rhaella remembered the old maester, and mourned for his passing. He and Rhaegar had kept in close contact, striking up a strong friendship. She wondered if Aemon knew he was in the presence of another dragon while he was at the Wall. Her daughter seemed to be torn between staring at the King in the North, and tearing open the letters right then and there. She was saved from the decision when Jon cleared his throat,

"Some of these letters discuss something that is one of the main, if not the only, reason why I decided to come to this negotiations, let alone agree to it in the first place. I must ask that you please listen, for as strange and impossible it may seem, I swear to you I am telling the truth."

A strange sense of foreboding crept up Rhaella's spine. Rhaegar too had once used similar words when he began speaking of what he read in his books.

"Thank you for the gift, and please continue. I am no stranger to strange and impossible things, so I doubt you will surprise me."

"There is a threat to all of our Kingdoms that is far greater than Cersei could ever be. North of the Wall is an army that does not sleep, does not get hungry, and will never stop moving. I have faced them during my time with the Watch, and have stabbed them through the heart and cut off their limbs only for them to continue getting up. Nothing seems to kill these foes, for they are already dead, and they march upon Westeros."

Rhaella could see that Tyrion was about to come up with a pointless quip, and her daughter was still pondering his words, so she leaned forward and spoke for the first time,

"You speak of the White Walkers."

She was not sure who was shocked more when they looked at each other, her daughter or her grandson. It was Rhaegar's son that spoke up first,

"You know of them?"

"I remember the stories my nursemaids would tell me when I was younger. When I was older, a much wiser man, one whose opinion I trusted, began to speak of them as if they were real."

"They are real. I have seen them, and I have fought them. They are marching upon the Wall, and if we don't stop them, they will roll over this entire continent and kill us all."

Daenerys began to speak up, but was interrupted by Tyrion.

"This story you bring sounds like quite the tale, but unfortunately I believe my sister still remains the only true threat. There is a gigantic Wall between us and your army of walking dead men, and only a few days travel by boat between us and my sister. Besides how are we to believe that this story is even true?"

"I have proof. We were able to capture some of the wights near Eastwatch by the Sea a few months back. Most of them I have used to convince my bannerman, as well as the Riverlords and the Vale, of the threat, but a few still remain in the Ice Cells. If you wish to see proof, I can send for them."

"We thank you for offering such proof," began Daenerys, "But for now, that is not necessary. You bring word of a threat to my people, and I would be a very poor Queen if I ignored it. Am I to believe that you wish to gain our aid in this fight as part of the terms of our alliance?"

"So long as you swear to bring your dragons and armies up to the north to help us defend the Wall, I see no problem in creating an alliance between our kingdoms. I would be more than happy to lend some of my armies to help in the siege of the capitol."

"That siege won't be happening for a bit of time, my armies are already marching on Casterly Rock."

Everyone stared in surprise as the Queen let that information slip. Tyrion choked on his wine while Jon stared in confusion at her daughter.

"Why would you waste your time on an empty castle?"

"Empty castle? That castle has a very important and strategic position, and it is vital that we control it before moving towards King's Landing."

"No, what is vital is that you end this war as soon as possible. You do that by taking King's Landing."

"If we were to take King's Landing before," Tyrion began, "Then my sister could flee to Casterly Rock."

Jon glanced over to her daughter's Hand, his confused expression growing even more.

"If your sister abandons the capitol, she loses the Iron Throne. That is the true goal if one wishes to win the Seven Kingdoms."

"Perhaps you don't understand the politics of the situation." Tyrion growled.

"No, but I understand the military aspect of it just fine. When I was taking back the North, I did not lay siege to the Dreadfort because it was the home of House Bolton. I laid siege to Winterfell, because that's where the Boltons were."

"Right, with your wildling army that you let through the Wall after you abandoned the Watch. Tell me, is Rickon Stark still alive, bastard?" Tyrion spat out.

If she had been next to the Lannister dwarf, Rhaella would have slapped him. Instead she quickly replied,

"Mind your tongue and your place, Tyrion!"

Jon's eyes glanced towards hers in confusion, wondering why she chose to defend him. Daenerys also looked at her, discretely showing her approval at her mother's words. The coldness in the King in the North's gaze returned as he regarded Tyrion. His voice was like ice, but Rhaella could hear the fire beneath it.

"My brother and heir is doing quite fine as he recovers in Winterfell. In fact I must go now and send him a letter. I promised him I would write to him once I made it to these shores safely. We can continue this conversation later, Queen Daenerys."

As Jon and his group walked out of the room towards their chambers, everyone turned to look at the frowning Lannister. Daenerys picked up his goblet of wine and flung it across the room as she hissed out,

"You are forbidden from drinking from this second forward, Lord Hand. How dare you speak in such a manner."

"He was insulting your strategy, my Queen."

"No, he was questioning yours, and his questions were quite wise. Are you that unsure of yourself that you must treat a second opinion as a threat?" growled Rhaella.

"I am surprised that you are defending the bastard. I must say that I do not think it wise to continue discussions with him. He is clearly mad from his time on the Wall, and is most definitely not the boy I remembered."

"Of course he isn't the boy you remembered," answered Rhaella, "Jon Stark is now a man grown and a King. You would do well to remember his name and title the next time you speak with him, and give him the respect he deserves."

Tyrion threw up his hands and stormed off. He stopped by the empty goblet, but shook his head and continued on. After a moment, Daenerys spoke up,

"Lord Tyrion does have a point in regards to your defense of King Jon. Why did you defend him mother?"

'Because he is my grandson, your nephew, and if the stories are true, then no one has ever defended him before.' thought Rhaella but did not say.

"We needed to keep the negotiations going, and Tyrion's remarks were hindering that. You should go to King Jon and continue discussing this allegiance on your own. Perhaps your two voices will get much more done than a room full of advisers."

As Daenerys nodded and walked away with a few of her bloodriders, Rhaella motioned for Ser Barristan to follow her. They began to walk through the gardens of Dragonstone in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Barristan breathed out,

"By the Seven, I could scarcely believe my own eyes when I saw him."

"I recognized him the moment he walked in, though he favors his mother in terms of coloring and features."

A voice whispered from behind them,

"A fact that has helped keep him alive and safe from the clutches of Tywin Lannister and Robert Baratheon, something I know Ned was grateful for."

The two turned around to see Howland Reed behind them, walking towards them with only a slight limp. Ser Barristan stepped forward, his sword halfway out of its sheath before Rhaella stopped him. Howland nodded at this and spoke up once more,

"I apologize for surprising you, though we crannogmen are hard to see, something your brothers at the Tower learned far too late. I wish things had gone differently, but they were Kingsguard to the end, though none of us knew it at the time. Their oaths forbade them from telling a brother that his sister was alive and in the midst of childbirth, so we believed we were still rescuing Lady Lyanna."

"What happened that day?"

Howland did not respond at first, but rather walked towards the edge of the garden, a place that overlooked the bay and the path up from the beaches. He sat down and leaned up against the wall, breathing heavily.

"I apologize for sitting, but Ser Arthur gave me a grievous wound that still pains me to this day. Were it up to me I would still be in Greywater Watch, but fate had a different story in mind. I joined up with the King's retinue as they prepared to set sail from White Harbor. Amongst my belongings is a small chest filled with papers that we found at the Tower. Ned wished to burn them with the rest of the structure, to make sure none could ever use them, but I believed differently."

"What papers were in the Tower, my Lord?" asked Rhaella.

"Marriage certificates between Rhaegar and Lyanna, as well as your eldest son's Will, proclaiming his at that time unborn child by Lyanna to be his heir, should Aerys, he, and Aegon fall. The King does not know of this yet, and I would beseech you to keep it that way, for now."

"And why would you think I would even allow that to happen? That is my grandson, my daughter's nephew. Had I known he had lived as well, I would have moved heaven and hell to get to him too. I will not ignore him now."

"Spend time with him if you wish it, I would never presume to think I could deny you that, but please do not speak of his true sire. These negotiations, as well as the wars to come, will require the full and absolute focus of both the King and Queen. Revealing such a life changing truth would no doubt greatly affect Jon, and would no doubt hurt if not destroy our chances of winning this war."

The smaller man had a point, Rhaella had to admit to herself, but she still didn't like it. The moment she saw Jon, she had wanted to rush down and hug him. To spend time with him and not treat him as family would be torture, but she could do it. For now at least. The Queen Mother had every intention of making sure she would be able to truly spend time with her grandson, and he with his grandmother, by the time the negotiations were over. As she was thinking about how to break such important news to him, Ser Barristan surprisingly asked Lord Reed,

"If I may, what is the character of the King?"

"He is a good man, with a pragmatic but honorable nature. Both the highborns and lowborns alike respect and revere him in Winterfell, as well as in the Riverlands and the Vale. He has a way with people, when he sets his mind to it. Even Edmure Tully is proud to call him King. Although, he does have his moments of melancholy and brooding. But if you were to know all of his story, it is quite understandable. From what I know of even his childhood, his life was not a pleasant one."

"What happened when he was a child?" Rhaella demanded.

"I do not know all of the details, Jon is reluctant to share them, and Ned kept the boy well hidden in Winterfell. What I do know is that Lady Catelyn believed him to be her husband's bastard, and she was a devout follower of the Seven."

A feeling almost akin to physical pain spread through Rhaella's body as she realized the implications of Lord Howland's words. She excused herself from the group and moved to a shaded area. The tears came down as she began to imagine her grandson being scorned and hated for a crime he had no part of. After the tears came the rage, and she suspected that if she ever got her hands on the woman who hurt her grandson, or any of those that followed in their Lady's footsteps at Winterfell, even Aerys would have feared her wrath. Some time passed before she began to hear voices coming from around the bend, familiar voices. Rhaella began to walk forward and managed to catch the last bit of the King and Queen's conversation.

"Thank you for allowing us to mine the dragonglass, your Grace. I will begin preparations immediately."

"You will have whatever resources you need for this task. As I said before, I will not ignore any potential threat to my people. Mother, I didn't see you there."

Rhaella smiled as she walked over to where Jon and Daenerys were standing.

"I was merely revisiting the gardens. I always used to enjoy the flowers here. King Jon, I must take this opportunity to apologize for the words Lord Tyrion spoke ..."

She was stopped when Jon shook his head and looked down,

"As I already told her Grace, there is nothing to forgive. The words Tyrion spoke are nothing that my own bannermen say to me sometimes. I am used to it."

"Regardless, my Hand will still be delivering a sincere apology to you and your retinue," her Daughter said, "And I promise you that for the rest of our negotiations, Lord Tyrion will be without wine."

The King in the North smiled and chuckled at that, causing Rhaella to nearly fall to her knees once more. It was her son's smile and laugh all over again. It took her a moment to realize her grandson was speaking.

"I know you have already apologized on behalf of your family, and I thank you for that, but I must now apologize to you on behalf of my family. The night before I executed him for his many treasons, Lord Baelish revealed the truth about what happened between Prince Rhaegar and my Aunt Lyanna. He said that they had run away together, and he was the one that Lyanna gave a letter to, to deliver to my Uncle Brandon. Baelish said he read and burned the letter before spinning a different tale to Brandon."

"What happened with my son and Lady Lyanna was not the reason the rebellion started. By that time, rebellion was inevitable, and their disappearance was merely the excuse to begin the revolt."

A long silence covered the three of them for a time. During that time, Rhaella couldn't help but notice the short looks the two monarchs gave each other, and softly smiled at the two of them. The Queen Mother decided to assist them in moving on from just looks by clearing her throat and saying,

"Anyway, my daughter and I will be taking our dinner away from the main hall tonight, and we would be delighted if you would join us. Perhaps you could tell us more about your time in the North."

Her grandson blinked in surprise, his eyes darting towards her daughter with an almost hopeful expression, though his words were of a different nature.

"I would never presume to intrude upon a ..."

It was her daughter who beat her to the punch by quickly saying,

"Please do join us, I, I mean we, would like it very much if you did so."

The two exchanged a look before Jon slowly nodded. As the three of them began to walk back towards the castle, Rhaella smirked to herself. While she would truly love to spend more time with her daughter and grandson, she felt it better if she was unfortunately absent during this meal. From what she knew of her daughter, and what she had guessed about her grandson, any potential relationship would have to be handled with delicate precision. That was something she was good at, thanks to her time in King's Landing.

Unbeknownst to the three Targaryens, three dragons each watched one of the three as they made their way back up the stairs to the castle. When they disappeared from view, they took to the skies and roared out with joy. The dragons had reunited and were home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> I do have a question though for you all.
> 
> Would you rather this story follow more or less the story line of season 7, but with the added Rhaella in the midst of it, or should this story go in a complete canon divergence? Things will change no matter what obviously, but how much and how big these changes are up to you. Please let me know.


	3. A Stranger's Face in the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning Tea with the Queen Mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you all for the comments and kudos. I never expected this story to gain so much popularity, but I'm glad you all are enjoying it.
> 
> I have decided to diverge from following the plot of season 7, and will be moving this story into more of a what could have happened. You have seen some of these changes, and more are incoming.

JON

The King in the North hesitated as he stared at the symbol of the three headed dragon on the door. He closed his eyes, trying to wonder if this was the right decision to make, whether or not this could damn this whole alliance. He closed his eyes and saw daggers in the dark, both in the courtyard of Castle Black, and beneath the Crypts of Winterfell. He nodded to himself and turned away from the door, returning to his bedpost to pick up his belt and sword. Never again would he answer a summons without some sort of weapon on him, even if it was from the mother of the Queen he was trying very hard not to think about.

Their dinner last night was both relaxing and insightful, giving him a clearer view at the Maester Aemon's niece. Both had been surprised when Daenerys mother did not show, though he thought he saw a bit of relief coming from the Mother of Dragons at that. After a few awkward starts, conversation began to flow between the two of them, like they had known each other all of their lives. He could see why everyone chose to follow her, and if there wasn't an army of the dead marching upon them all, he no doubt would have been one of them. Nevertheless, he had the fates of all the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands resting on his shoulders, and that required him to do what was best for all his people. He did know the easiest way to secure an alliance with the South, one that many of his advisors had hinted at. When he was on the ship, Jon had believed that he would probably have to marry in order to gain the alliance of Daenerys Targaryen. She was a Queen, and he a King, both ruling over a great deal of people, and therefore unable to act upon whatever feelings they might have. Or at least, had. After watching Ygritte die at Castle Black, and then Val be killed by Ramsay's arrow right inside Winterfell, Jon had resigned himself to the fact that he would never again find love. But now, even after just one dinner, Jon began to wonder if he was wrong.

As he was escorted by the Unsullied through the dark hallways of Dragonstone, Jon began to plan for the rest of his day. This morning meeting with the Queen Mother probably wouldn't take too long, and he had plenty of things to do. Thanks to Sam's map, they had found the caves of dragonglass yesterday afternoon, and Jon had already ordered his men to prepare to mine it. Daenerys had kept her word, not that he doubted her, and also ordered her Dothraki to assist. He needed to be down there to make sure none of the groups there got into any fights. Before the Umbers had revealed their true allegiances, Tormund and Smalljon Umber had a brutal fight during the Battle for Winterfell. Afterwards they had apparently gotten over it, but Jon couldn't miss the looks the two gave each other every now and then. Hopefully he could find a way to keep them occupied on opposite ends of the island.

By that time, he had reached the library of Dragonstone, where Queen Mother Rhaella had asked to meet him. The shelves were filled with old and dusty books, and for some reason Jon felt almost at peace as he stepped through the doorway. Rhaella Targaryen was sitting at a small table in the center, sipping a cup of tea and skimming over a book. She rose as Jon made his presence known.

"Your Grace, thank you for joining me. Would you care for some tea? It's freshly brewed."

"I'll try some, thank you."

There was something odd about how the Queen Mother stared at him. He had noticed her doing it during the negotiations yesterday, and when the three of them had walked through the gardens. She gazed at him like she was looking for something, but whatever it was, he did not know. Feeling a little uncomfortable, he began to look around at the many books surrounding the two of them.

"It is indeed an impressive collection. Tell me, King Jon, do you enjoy reading?"

"When I was younger, I read as much as I could, when I was allowed to, at least."

Jon winced as he let that small detail slip, hoping Rhaella wouldn't notice, but she did. The cup in her hands froze and her eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean, allowed to? Why would you not be allowed to read?"

Jon shifted uncomfortably before responding,

"I was given many chores to help around the castle, and they kept me busy. I was able to attend some lessons with my brothers, but for the most part I was needed elsewhere. I did try to go to the library at Winterfell during the night, and read then, but my father and Lady Stark found me. They both forbade me from going to the library without someone to watch me, so I stopped going."

"Why would they do such a thing?"

"I did not ask, and it didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like I needed to know how to read or write on the Wall."

"So you were planning on going to the Wall even when you were a child? Why?"

"It was the only place I thought I could make something of myself. When my father left, I knew staying in Winterfell was no longer an option."

The Queen Mother leaned forward and grabbed his hand, surprising Jon.

"Why did Lord Stark not foster you with one of his bannermen, or perhaps give you a holdfast to rule. Both would have been far better options than a life amongst criminals."

Jon pulled his hand away.

"The Wall was my choice, though I was not told its true nature until I arrived. Had I known, I do not know if I would have chosen differently, had I been able to choose. If my father had wished to foster me somewhere he would have, but he didn't."

The two were silent for a few minutes. Finally Rhaella softly said,

"I apologize for digging up past wounds, it was not my intention."

"There's nothing to forgive," Jon answered, "By the way, thank you very much for speaking of the White Walkers when you did. It truly helped in convincing the Queen."

"Think nothing of it, my dear boy. You were the one who went beyond the Wall and got the proof of these wights. How did you manage to do that?"

Jon looked down at his cup, swirling the contents around for a few moments.

"In a way I wish I could have stopped. When I was consolidating my rule, I had sent most of the Free Folk to man the castles along the Wall, especially Castle Black and Eastwatch by the Sea. I asked them to try and capture any wights should they come across any in their rangings, but did not expect such luck to occur. Somehow, those at Eastwatch learned that almost everything that died a certain ways away from the Wall was almost guaranteed to come back as a wight the next morning. So, a group of the older Free Folk decided to travel there and draw lots. Those that drew the shorter sticks took their own lives, and the bodies were brought back to the Wall. The next morning they turned, and those that remained sent word that they had captured wights. I only learned about the how when I went up to collect a few wights to convince my bannermen."

"A terrible but noble sacrifice."

"I wish they didn't have to make it. I would have much rather gone and hunted the wights then create them. Many of those that turned had families in Winterfell, and I had to tell them what their fathers and mothers had done."

Rhaella reached for his hand again, and this time he didn't pull away.

"Never underestimate the lengths a parent will go to in order to keep their child safe. Had I been in there shoes, I would have done the same thing. My daughter may believe you, or at least is willing to treat your words seriously, but those of the South will need proof before they send any soldiers or supplies to the Wall."

After a moment, Jon looked up into the older ladies eyes. The two stared at each other for a few seconds before Jon asked,

"Why did you invite me to your morning tea, your Grace."

"To spend some time with the man who may become my daughter's husband. I'd like to know the nature of such a man. Speaking of, there isn't a Queen Stark back at Winterfell, right?"

"No, I am not married or promised to anyone yet. If that should be the course of these negotiations, I want to tell you, I will do my best to make sure your daughter is happy. I swear that to you."

"I have no doubt in that regards. Now would you like some more food?"

A Few Hours Later

Feeling very stuffed from the vast amounts of food Queen Rhaella had given him, Jon began to make his way to the beaches. He and the Queen Mother had spoken for another hour or so on a variety of topics, mainly focusing on him and his life at Winterfell. She was oddly protective of him whenever he mentioned things that had gone wrong for him, but he dismissed them fairly quickly. It was comforting to hear someone say those words of comfort, even though he had no idea why she in particular was saying them. Perhaps she was trying to make him feel at home, or part of the Targaryen family, or maybe she was just a kind person, and Jon didn't have much experience with those people. So caught up in his thoughts, Jon almost ran into Tyrion Lannister, who was standing near the steps and gazing out into the sea.

"Pardon me, Lord Tyrion."

"It's alright Jon, or I mean King Jon."

Before Tyrion could continue Jon put his hand on his shoulder.

"You can still call me Jon, or even Snow if you like. My kingdom may call me Stark, but I haven't forgotten who I really am. I have worn my armor well, and I owe that to you."

"Nevertheless, I must apologize for my actions yesterday. I said things I shouldn't have and I regret them terribly. It has been a stressful campaign, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"There's nothing to forgive. Besides, I'm certain that the Queen will be sitting on the Iron Throne in no time thanks to your mind."

Tyrion gave a pained smile at that.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. While you were speaking with the Queen Mother, I was in a meeting with her daughter. It would appear that Euron Greyjoy successfully attacked and destroyed our naval fleet, capturing Ellaria Sand and Yara Greyjoy as well. It makes me wonder if the rest of my strategy in regards to Casterly Rock was the right move to make. With Euron's fleet in the wind, they could easily surround and ambush the fleet that ferried our Unsullied to the Westerlands, leaving us with only the unruly Dothraki, as well as the not so mighty soldiers of the Reach."

Jon walked next to his old friend, leaning against the ledge.

"It will be a lengthy siege, and your siblings will have to divert much of their forces to defend it. That will leave other areas open to attack with your other forces. Although, I can only guess they are thinking the same thing. Is Dragonstone prepared for a siege?"

"Of course it is, this fortress has stood against armadas and nature itself. I would not lay siege to this island if I was in charge of fighting against the Mother of Dragons. In fact, I wouldn't attack her at all, but would rather ..."

"Rather what?"

Tyrion had gone silent as his mouth opened and closed a few times. After a moment, a string of curses sprang from the dwarf's mouth as he began to walk back up the stairs. Jon began to follow him as Tyrion started to talk again,

"I would attack her allies and leave her isolated on this island, which is exactly what they've been doing. It's how my father defeated your brother, though he used letters to sway the Boltons and Freys from King Robb's side instead of just destroying them. Euron has already defeated Dorne and our group of Greyjoys, which leaves only ..."

"Highgarden," said Daenerys, "You think your sister will attack Highgarden?"

Everyone was in the chambers of the Painted Table, even Jon's advisors.

"Yes, your Grace. It's what I would do, in my sister's shoes. As I said to King Jon, attacking the fortress with three living dragons would be suicide, but Highgarden is a much easier target."

"But with what army? I thought you said that your siblings would send a majority of their soldiers to Casterly Rock."  


"Cersei only cares about the Iron Throne, that is what truly matters. If it meant keeping the capitol, she would no doubt give up Casterly Rock. In fact she might literally abandon the ancestral home and move her army elsewhere, in order to ambush or attack some unsuspecting force, like Highgarden."

"Or the Whispering Woods," said Jon, "It's what my brother did to Jaime and Tywin. He made them both believe all his forces were in one place, when in reality the majority were in another."

At this moment, Varys's head shot up. He quickly began to rummage through his cloak until he found an old scroll and read it quickly.

"Your Grace, in light of these recent revelations, I believe the contents of this report could be much more different than what I had imagined they were. My little birds spoke of a large army of soldiers from the Reach making their way up the road towards Highgarden a week or so ago. I believed them to be loyal bannermen answering Lady Olenna's summons, but perhaps they hold more nefarious intentions. All Cersei would have to do is promise the title of Lord Paramount to another House, and they might gladly betray the House with only an elderly woman at its head for a chance at power."

Daenerys' eyes blazed with fury as she stood up and proclaimed,

"I shall fly to the roads near Highgarden and inspect whether or not Lannister red is among the banners. If they are, then all will meet the fire of my dragons."

Jon watched as both Tyrion and Varys erupted into a barrage of complaints and concerns directed towards their Queen, but she would not budge. Finally when even her mother began to join with Tyrion and Varys, Daenerys threw her hands up and exclaimed,

"What would you have me do? Nothing? Shall I just sit around as my allies remain defenseless? What would you do if it were your bannermen under attack, King Jon?"

Jon frowned and raised his hands before Daenerys spoke up again,

"I am at war, and may soon be losing. If we are to be allies, then we should be able to discuss strategy. What would you do, Jon."

For a minute, Jon was unable to do anything but stare into the fierce face of the woman before him. Behind her, all three dragons flew across the bay, and for a moment, Jon felt like he was the one flying, next to his black and white scaled brothers. He shook his head of the image to still see Daenerys' eyes upon him.

"I think you should take the black dragon, Drogon, and fly straight to Highgarden in order to warn your allies there. Then I would wait at the castle for the army to arrive. No matter what Cersei promised them, no one will wish to fight against a dragon, especially not one like Balerion the Dread reborn. But please be careful, your Grace. They may not wish to fight a dragon, but they will come prepared."

The rest of the meeting was a blur, as Jon began to fight off a intense headache. Queen Daenerys and those at the table had agreed to his suggestion, and the Queen began to make preparations to fly to Highgarden with utmost haste. Jon, on the other hand, could barely make it back to his chambers before he fell upon the bed. His head felt like a burning hot spike was randomly poking around his skull, trying to find its way in. His vision changed from the floor of his room to the open sky below him. He could see the island of Dragonstone as a whole, and then the insides of one of the rooms. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of agony, he felt his body land amongst the warm sandy beaches of his mother's home, and upon the somewhat still waves he saw his reflection of emerald green scales. Off in the distance a lone wolf began to howl, and Jon answered it with a roar of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody is very eager to meet Jon, isn't he.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I will be working on the next one asap.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought in the comments below.


	4. Old Wounds, Bloodlines, and Loyalties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon falls ill on Dragonstone, plans are made, and loyalties change.

RHAELLA

"Do you truly believe he will remember this, Mother?"

"If the Jaime I remember is still there, then perhaps that will make a difference."

Rhaella and her daughter were walking down the steps towards the beaches, where Drogon and the other dragons were resting. This would be the first time Rhaella would be getting close to the dragons and was nervous. She hid it well, and her daughter did not comment on it. Drogon was there, waiting for his mother to take him where they would go. Viserion was a bit further back, but Rhaella could feel his gaze upon her. But Rhaegal was acting most strangely. He seemed to be awkwardly stumbling around the beach, peering closely into the waters before pushing away from them and gazing towards the castle. She and her daughter both paused at this as they looked at the emerald green dragon.

"Has Rhaegal ever done something like this?" Rhaella whispered.

"Never, I don't know ..."

At that moment, Rhaella saw a white shape come up from behind them, and realized it was Jon's direwolf Ghost. All three dragons sharply turned their heads towards the horse sized wolf standing near their mother, but Rhaegal almost seemed nervous. Ghost stood his ground and began a low and deep howl. Rhaella heard her daughter gasp in shock and barely heard her whisper,

"That was the howl I heard in the Dothraki Sea."

The direwolf moved over to Daenerys and began to nudge at her side, trying to almost push her back towards Dragonstone. For reasons that Rhaella did not know, her daughter decided to follow the large wolf as they made their way back to the castle. When they made their way back up to the castle, they encountered Tyrion, Varys, and Ser Barristan at the gates. Ser Barristan said,

"My Queen, we were about to send a runner to get you. The King in the North has just fallen ill."

"How! We were just speaking not even an hour ago!"

"All Ser Davos has said is that he looked to be in pain when he was leaving the meeting and fell onto his bed."

With that, Daenerys pulled up her skirts and ran down the hallway, leaving everyone but Ghost in her wake. The rest of the group followed the Queen as they made their way to the King in the North's chambers. Rhaella arrived just in time to see her daughter falter and gasp in shock at the doorway, and when she made her way next to her, she did as well.

Jon Stark was lying down on top of the furs of his bed, groaning and thrashing around, with men holding his limbs down as another applied a wet towel to his forehead. What caused their gasps of shock were the half dozen scars across Jon's torso, with one lying directly over his heart. Rhaella almost fell faint as she clutched at her daughter's hand, realizing she was doing the same. The scars looked like opened wounds, like they would start spewing blood any minute.

"By the Seven, what happened to him?"

One of the men helping Jon, a large man with a bushy red beard, grumbled out,

"His brother crows knifed him for saving our lives. Those fuckers let him bleed out in the snow, but that red woman brought him back."

"Red Woman? Melisandre?" asked Varys.

"Aye," growled Davos, "The witch spoke some words into a fire and a few minutes later, Jon started breathing again. Never seen anything like it."

White hot rage was all Rhaella felt as she stared at the mangled torso of her only living grandson. He had been betrayed and murdered before she even knew of his existence, by the very men that had sworn to serve him. Before she could say anything, Tyrion spoke in a quiet voice,

"That's why he left the Watch, wasn't it. He swore to die at his post and he did."

The Onion Knight and the red bearded fellow nodded.

"That's the basics of it. Course, he didn't leave before we rounded up his murderers for Jon to execute. That was his last act as Lord Commander."

"Good, otherwise I would have to travel up North to execute those traitors myself." Daenerys spat out.

Rhaella noticed Tyrion and Varys frowning at her daughter's choice of words, but the Northmen in the room seemed to nod in approval. She supposed it made sense. Flowery appeals for bribes and time in a cell held little sway in the North. For acts of treason, the punishment was death. One of them said,

"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. That's the old way, your Grace. It seems like you and King Jon might be more similar than we thought."

At that moment Howland Reed limped his way into the room. He moved over to Jon's side and after a moment of staring at him, leaned over and opened his eyelids. When he did, Rhaella heard him swear softly under his breath. He reached into a pouch at his side, and rummaged through it before pulling out a small vial. As soon as he poured the contents of that vial down Jon's throat, the King in the North began to relax, and now he only looked like he was asleep. Still, neither she nor Daenerys moved from their position at the doorway.

"He had a fever, but I gave him something to sleep it off. He will be fine come next morning." said Howland.

"Then I will be off next morning." Daenerys replied.

"Daughter, by next morning, Lady Olenna could be dead and Highgarden sacked. You and your dragon are the only way to prevent that. Jon will be fine, I will watch over him, I promise."

It took nearly another half hour to convince her daughter to leave Jon's side. What finally convinced her was Jon's Hand quietly saying that Jon would have wanted her to save her people instead of watching him sleep. Even as Daenerys finally nodded and walked back to fly away towards Highgarden, Rhaella stayed in Jon's room. He did seem to be fighting a fever, but Rhaella could tell Howland was lying about something. His eyes were normal, at least when she checked. Still, she stayed and tended to him, ignoring the others who visited the King in the North. Ser Barristan also spent the majority of his day standing vigil inside the room, as did Howland Reed, but none of them spoke for nearly the rest of the day. It was sometime after the sun had set, when Rhaella paused from applying the wet cloth to her grandson's forehead, that she looked up and asked,

"Why have you not told Jon the truth about his mother? You seem to have had plenty of opportunity to do so."

The crannogman sighed before looking up at the Queen Mother. He was silent for almost a minute, staring deeply into her eyes, but she did not back down. Eventually Lord Reed looked away and began to speak,

"I have wanted to tell him about his mother for years now, but Ned Stark made me promise not to. Still, when he was a boy, I kept asking Ned if I could foster Jon with me at Greywater Watch, where he could learn of his mother in one of the safest places in Westeros, but Ned refused everytime. Finally, when I learned Robert was coming North, I sent a letter to Ned one last time. He told me not to speak of Jon's mother while Robert was making his way up to Winterfell. When i learned that Lyanna's boy had joined the Watch without knowing the truth, I was furious at Lord Stark. I would have never tried to convince Jon to fight for the throne, but he could have made something else of himself rather than a ranger on the Wall. I resolved to travel up to the Wall in order to tell Jon the truth before he swore his vows, to give him a choice, but then Lord Stark was executed and we went to war. During this my health took a turn for the worse, and I only recovered recently, to a degree. I thought of telling him when he took Winterfell from the Boltons, but then we learned of Robb's Will. I knew then that the North needed to be united against the threat beyond the Wall, that they needed to stand firmly behind their king, and that King needed to have the name Stark. Lord Rickon was still too wild from his time on the run, and Lady Sansa was married to the Lord of the Vale, Harrold Hardyng. Finally, when I heard that he was journeying to meet with your daughter, I decided to join him and tell him the truth on the way here."

"What changed?"

"When we were still in White Harbor, I heard from some sailors how your daughter had burnt half of Pentos to the ground because of some boy pretending to be her kin. I worried about her character, and what she may have done to Jon should he too have come forth with tales of their shared blood."

"My daughter burnt an empty manse down after she killed those who attacked her and liberated those who surrendered. The boy that pretended to be my other grandson also threatened to kill me in front of her when I refused to tell his lies."

Howland held up a hand,

"I learned the truth from those here in Dragonstone, but for a time I was worried. There is also the fact that Jon is your eldest son's heir. By all rights, the Iron Throne belongs to him, not your daughter."

"I had crowned Viserys here on Dragonstone when Stannis laid siege to the island, and he proclaimed his sister as his heir. Had I known Lyanna's boy was still alive, things would have been different. Nevertheless, my House's claim to the Iron Throne via blood is one that many would contest nowadays, so it would appear that right of conquest will be the way we must regain our home. As to who has the better claim, all of that doesn't really matter if the two wed. Now, what is your reason for not telling him the truth?"

Howland glanced over at the still sleeping Jon for a few minutes, but Rhaella waited patiently.

"Their shared blood shouldn't turn Jon away from any marriage alliance. Nearly every single House in Westeros has married uncles and aunts to nieces and nephews, including the Starks. What I worry about is his reaction to the fact that his father is not his father, and that he may believe his life is a lie. We are in a time of war, and we need Jon to be focused on defeating the Army of the Dead. But he needs to know, he deserves to know."

"Then we shall tell him, but we will do so in a gentle manner and gradually, so that he may come to realize the truth himself."

"All I ask is that I be there when we begin to tell the story of his parents. You may know the side of his father, but I know the side of his mother."

JON

As Jon woke up, he felt like his whole body had spent time near a furnace. After being on the Wall or at Winterfell for most of his life, it was a strange feeling. He struggled to get up, with his head spinning in circles, but strong arms held him down. A old and kind voice appeared from somewhere on his right side,

"Easy there dear, take your time."

It was the Queen Mother. She, Howland Reed, and his Hand, Ser Davos, were all in his room for some reason. They all looked at him with worry in their eyes. With a start, Jon realized that he wasn't wearing a tunic, and his failures were out in the open for any to see. He scrambled to pull something over his torso but once again Rhaella stopped him with a surprisingly iron like grip.

"It's alright Jon, Tormund and Ser Davos told us what happened. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Us? Did the, did Daenerys see?" he croaked out.

"Yes, before she left. You gave us quite a fright, so much that your wolf came to get us before my daughter flew off on her dragon."

That last word sparked something in Jon's memory, a vision of fire and flying. There was also something else, someone else that he had heard. A woman's voice, weak and in pain but still saying the same words over and over again. He couldn't remember what she was saying, but it almost felt like a memory. Ser Davos pulled him from his thoughts when he asked,

"What's the last thing you remember lad?"

"I was looking out at the dragons, and my head started to hurt. Then it was like I was looking at myself from the dragon's point of view. The views kept changing and I tried to make it to my bed, but then all I could see was from the dragon's point of view. I think it was the green one, Rhaegal. We, I mean he, were on the beach."

Everyone was quiet for a few minutes. Jon noticed Howland and Rhaella looking at each other before the crannogmen spoke up quietly,

"Do you think you were warging into the dragon, your Grace?"

Jon frowned but shook his head,

"No, I don't think so. I can barely do that with Ghost, and only when I'm asleep. This was different, like it was the dragon who started it."

Rhaella's voice was hesitant,

"I have read before that dragons can sometimes try to communicate through the mind. It was from a very old book, but perhaps that was what was happening?"

"But why me?"

"You must have some Valyrian blood in you, and Rhaegal must have sensed that."

"So my mother was of Valyrian descent?"

"It would appear that you have that blood in you, as well as the blood of the First Men," answered Howland, "Your mind probably tried to warg into the dragon when it made the attempt to contact you."

"Either way, you need to rest. You had a very dangerous fever, and need to recuperate. If you have more questions, we will be more than happy to answer them, but for now sleep."

Jon could already feel himself drifting back to sleep, and struggled to keep his eyes open. He heard the door open and close, but the last thing he saw was Rhaella pulling up a chair and sitting next to him.

JAIME

"We still have the numbers, and we should use those to our advantage. You said it yourself, her army is probably at Casterly Rock by now."

Jaime wanted to roll his eyes at Randyll Tarly's stupidity, but Bronn beat him to it.

"Do you remember that gigantic black dragon that flew over our heads and made its way to Highgarden a few hours ago? I'm pretty sure that's all the army anyone needs really."

Tarly scoffed, but was the only one to do so.

"That girl doesn't know what war is. One dragon is nothing against an army."

That was when Jaime spoke up,

"But what about three dragons, Lord Tarly? For all we know the other two dragons flew over to Highgarden from opposite directions, and we could be walking into a second Field of Fire."

Everyone was camped out in the forest nearby Highgarden, and had been so since the dragon simply flew over their heads. Jaime had been quietly telling most of the men under his command to pack up and prepare to leave. Highgarden meant nothing to him, and if the Dragon Queen wanted to defend it, he'd be happy to let her keep it. The stubborn Randyll Tarly was probably the only one who wanted to keep pressing forward, his greed for power evident. Suddenly a few men marched into the tent and threw a well dressed man forward. Tarly growled and drew a dagger.

"A spy?"

The man shook his head and held out his hands before saying,

"Merely a messenger, my Lord. I bring word from your liege Lady, and Queen Daenerys Targaryen."

Before Randyll could reply with his usual level of naive stupidity, Jaime quickly responded,

"What is the message."

"Lady Olenna thanks her many bannermen for keeping their loyalty to her House, and insists upon the lords of the Houses present here to come to Highgarden to speak of the future. Queen Daenerys would like you all to know that she does not wish to fight, but all three of her dragons will join the fray if you chose to continue attacking. On a more personal note, Queen Mother Rhaella says hello to you Jaime."

Jaime's ears began to ring and everything in the room turned dark. With two steps forward he rushed towards the messenger and threw him against the table before putting his dagger against the man's throat.

"Rhaella Targaryen is dead! She died over twenty years ago on Dragonstone! Do not lie to me!"

"The Queen Mother survived the Siege of Dragonstone and was found recently in Pentos by her daughter. She asks if you ever managed to replace that book you dropped into Blackwater Bay the day you two first met."

Jaime dropped the man and almost fell to his knees. Only he and the Queen Mother knew about that, she had not even told Aerys. A strange feeling of hope and shame began to blossom in his chest. Rhaella had been like a mother to him all his years as a Kingsguard, and like Elia and her children, she had been a person he continued to mourn. The rest of the meeting passed by in a blur. Most if not all of the Reachmen and soldiers from the Westerlands deserted when the knowledge that all three dragons could be facing them. It was late in the night that Jaime snuck out of his tent, wearing dark clothes, as he made his way to the horses. Bronn was there, with two bodies draped over each of their horses.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing Bronn?"

"I could ask the same of you, only I reckon you're trying to meet with the Dragon Queen to see if her mother is really alive."

Jaime could only wordlessly nod. Bronn quickly jumped up on his horse, and Jaime did the same.

"Well seeing as you still haven't paid me, I reckon I still need to keep you alive. So I'm coming with you, and I brought gifts."

"Who are they?"

"On your horse is the stupidest Lord of them all, Randyll fucking Tarly. Fellow kept trying to rally the men to fight against the dragon, but no one was listening to him prattle. I was planning on taking just him, to prove our loyalties, or at least mine, are sincere. My passenger happens to be his idiotic son, who was nearby and was causing a bit of a ruckus. So let's go see this Dragon Queen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think?
> 
> Sneak Peek  
> "Do not presume to compare my daughter to her father, my Lord. You never met the man, nor do you know what he was like, what he was truly like."


	5. Executions, Redemption, and Revelations,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fate of a traitor, the face of true evil, and the decision of two monarchs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the wait, work and life got a bit busy but I'm still doing my best to keep at this. I actually went back and reread all of your comments, and that gave me the extra juice I needed tonight to finish this chapter.

DAENERYS

"In return for allowing the Lannister army to return to King's Landing, Jaime Lannister has surrendered himself to our care. He and his sellsword accomplice, who insists on staying with your brother due to a debt that is yet to be payed, will remain here at Dragonstone for the remainder of the war."

Even as she relayed the results of her trip to Highgarden, all Daenerys could think about was the way Jon had confidently held his hand out to Drogon, petting him like he was Ghost. Even when her father's killer had fallen to his knees before her mother, and she had hugged him, Daenerys couldn't keep herself from going back to the memory of her most fiercest son purring at the touch of the Northern King. He was watching her now with an intense look to his eyes, and she realized that everyone was doing the same when her Hand cleared his throat and asked,

"And the Houses of the Reach that sided with my sister? What were their fates?"

"Thanks to the presence of Drogon, Lady Olenna was able to easily resway their loyalties back to her House, and under our command. For the time being, many of their heirs will reside in Highgarden. Randyll Tarly, the leader of the treasonous Lords, was executed."

A grim but almost satisfied look crossed the face of the King in the North, one that she wished to learn more about later. Her mother merely nodded in simple approval, but Tyrion frowned and hesitantly asked,

"By whom, and for what reasons, was Lord Tarly executed?"

"I executed him with Drogon for his crimes of treason against his liege lord and myself."

As she expected, Tyrion's eyes flared with shock and he shook his head in almost disbelief. His voice was borderline patronizing,

"Did you at least give him a trial?"

Daenerys could see her mother sit up and start to speak, but she held up her hand, stopping her. This was her fight.

"Over a dozen Lords, including your own brother, named Lord Tarly the leader of the rebel Reach Lords, and Lord Tarly admitted it himself. He was pronounced guilty by not only myself, but also by Lady Olenna, so I executed him. Do you have a problem with that, Lord Hand?"

"Perhaps a more lighter sentence could have been given, your Grace? After all, while the intent was to commit treason, Lord Tarly actually ..."

"Any conspiracy or intent to commit treason, is treason, and is punishable as such." interrupted Varys.

The way how Tyrion's head whipped over to the Spider was almost comical if it weren't for the situation. For a moment, she believed her Hand would drop the conversation, but instead he turned to her mother and said,

"You know what the people will say, who they will begin to compare your daughter to."

In an instant, Rhaella Targaryen reached over the table and grabbed Tyrion's face. Her eyes blazed with a burning fury as she spat out,

"Do not even dare to presume you could compare my husband to my daughter, Tyrion. She is nothing like him, and will never be anything like him. You have no right to even think such words, for you never even met the man."

For some reason, Tyrion still tried to talk.

"She burnt a Lord alive."

It was Jaime who responded, in a low and quiet voice.

"You weren't there Tyrion, and you weren't there to watch how Aerys burnt his victims alive either. He would have his pyromancer make it last as long as possible, to draw out their screams. Her Grace's dragon turned a full grown man, in full plate armor, to ashes within a few seconds. I have seen beheadings that have lasted longer. Only a fool would even think to compare how she executed Lord Tarly to the way Aerys murdered his victims."

Wisely, Tyrion shut up after that, and the meeting continued. The mining of the dragonglass was going well, and according to the King in the North, they had found something in the caves, which she agreed to look at with him the next day. Jon also reported that a good deal of forces from both the Riverlands and the Vale had marshalled near the borders and were ready to march upon King's Landing. Seeing as the meeting was drawing to a close, Daenerys had her Dothraki escort Ser Jaime and Bronn to their cells, before asking Jon to stay. A few people raised their eyebrows at this, and Daenerys almost groaned at the small smile her mother gave, but she held her ground. The room was quiet for a few minutes before Daenerys hesitantly asked,

"Have you recovered from your fever, King Jon?"

"Yes, I merely needed a day or so of rest. This past week or so you were gone I was able to return to working in the mines," Jon answered before hesitating for only a moment, until he continued on, "You know I would have done the same thing, in fact I did do the same thing."

"What?"

Jon walked over to the side of the table where Daenerys was sitting before he took a seat closer to her, the fireplace making his face look like it was dancing in shadows.

"A short while after I took back Winterfell, Petyr Baelish attempted to assassinate me. He waited till I went down to the Crypts to pay my respects to my father, and sent assassins down there. I survived, that time, and when I learned it was Baelish who sent them, I had him arrested and executed him the very same day, with less of a trial than you had for Lord Tarly. I later learned that a few other minor Lords from the North and the Vale were involved in the planning of the attempt on my life, so I called them to Winterfell to be executed for their crimes as well."

"You know, his son wanted to join him. He would have ran into the fire had Ser Bronn not knocked him out. How can I not feel some sort of guilt, or worry about becoming my father, for executing a man whose son risked death to save?"

"Daenerys, the Tarlys were not my grandfather and uncle. Besides, if Dickon had known what his father had done to his older brother Sam, what he had threatened him with, I doubt he would have stood with him."

"What did he do?"

"Simply because Sam cared more about scholarly pursuits rather than militaristic ones, his father threatened to kill him if he didn't take the Black, along with a vast amount of cruel abuses throughout his childhood. Randyll Tarly was not a good man, and honestly I believe the world is a better place now that he isn't in it. You executed a traitor who deserved the punishment of death, and spared the lives of thousands because of it."

RHAELLA

Of all the traits she had passed down to her daughter, Rhaella was beginning to be annoyed at how stubborn she was being. It had been a month or so since she had returned from defending Highgarden from the Lannister's surprise attack, and since then, there had been almost no progress in the negotiations between her daughter and grandson. Jon spent most of his days in the mines, and would sometimes dine with her and Daenerys, or either of them separately, but there was no mentions of marriages, or anything of that nature. Each and every one of both of the monarch's advisors had been expecting an announcement within the first week, but so far there had been none. As she and Ser Barristan made their way to the meeting, she resolved to speak of the issue to her daughter in private. Suddenly, she and Ser Barristan almost walked into Ser Bronn and Ser Jaime, who were being escorted by a group of Unsullied.

"Fancy meeting you lot here," the sellsword Bronn said, "Any particular reason we're all walking down this same path this fine morning?"

Rhaella rolled her eyes at the lack of manners coming from the sellsword, but answered him nonetheless,

"The King in the North has requested a meeting with all of us, my daughter the Queen, included."

"So the King calls, and we all answer?"

Nearly everyone glared at Bronn, who merely smirked and raised his eyebrow in a questioning manner. Before Rhaella could respond, Jaime asked,

"And how exactly is he the King in the North? Last I heard, he was a bastard and was the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. In King's Landing we had heard rumors of a Will by Robb Stark, but how is he not an oathbreaker for deserting the Watch?"

Once again, Bronn interrupted the group for some unknown reason.

"Why you wondering, Kingslayer? Jealous?"

"Please escort Ser Bronn down to the meeting, while Ser Jaime stays with us. Now, regardless of whatever contract you made, if you interrupt me once more, I will have you thrown in the dungeons for a fortnight."

No one spoke for a minute as Bronn was forcibly pushed away. Rhaella watched as the young Lannister began to shift awkwardly from one foot to the next. Apart from the tearful reunion they had shared when her Daughter brought the two to Dragonstone, Jaime had not spoken to her once. She waited until he glanced up at her before beginning to speak,

"King Jon broke no vows, Ser Jaime, and neither did you. Your brother told us the truth of what my husband was planning to do, and I for one am proud of the decision you made. You saved the city, and tens of thousands of innocent lives. It is not something you should ever feel ashamed about, or regret."

To say Jaime was shocked was an understatement. His mouth began to open and close, and Rhaella could see tears start to pool around his eyes. It was Ser Barristan who began to slowly speak, almost as if the words were being forced out painfully,

"I agree with her Grace. Our vows as Kingsguard shouldn't have interfered with our vows as knights, the two shouldn't even come into conflict with each other. But in your case it did Jaime, and while I may not have thought so before, I know now that you did the right thing. If it had been me there instead of you, I would have stopped Aerys as well, regardless of our vows."

"If I had been on the Trident, my father would have sent his armies there as well to aid Rhaegar, and he might still be alive," whispered Jaime, "But I have no regrets, gods forgive me, for killing your husband. What I regret is not saving Elia and the children. I could have made it there in time, gotten them out of the city, but instead I sat there until Stark found me. It was the last thing Rhaegar ever said to me, protect my children, and I failed at that."

Rhaella exchanged a look with Ser Barristan while Jaime looked away to wipe his eyes. For a moment she so badly wished to tell Jaime that he had another chance to fulfil his promise to her son, but she hesitated. Too many people knew the truth, while Jon did not. Tyrion had made the connection about a week and a half ago, and even her daughter was beginning to suspect. She owed it to Jon to tell him before she told anyone else.

"You couldn't have known what was going to happen. Even if you had, they may have killed you as well Jaime. My husband and your father were evil men, perhaps some of the worst men ever."

Half an hour later, Rhaella realized her last comment to Jaime was wrong. Now she stared at possibly the most evil thing in creation itself. It's inhuman icy blue eyes blazed with a mad fury that not even Aerys could compare to as the dead man lunged once more at the living onlookers. Everyone could see the ruined mess of the dead man's throat as it tried to scream out, the fingernails looking more like claws. The creature seemed to have no concept of pain, not even when Jon cut of one of its arms, then split in half with a normal castle forged sword. It merely turned back over and started to crawl towards the rest of the group. Sighs of relief were heard throughout the room when the King in the North showed the sole weakness of the creature to be fire, and then executed it with a dagger made of dragonglass. For a long few minutes, no one said a word as they watched the now truly dead corpse burn away, until Tyrion quietly whispered,

"You know, there was a part of me that still hoped you were lying about all this. I wanted to believe it was some test you came up with to see if her Grace could be trusted."

"A test of what?" asked Daenerys.

Tyrion shrugged, still not looking away from the wight.

"If you were willing to drop everything and go North to aid them in some mystical fight, then obviously you were a leader that would care, or something like that. Obviously this fight is a real one."

It was Jaime who responded next, his voice filled with horror.

"Do you know how many there are, or what their goals are?"

"We don't know anything for certain, but I saw tens of thousands be turned at Hardhome by an even larger army. If I had to guess, I would say at least one hundred thousand, but there is probably more."

"Do you have more of these wights to show others? If Cersei saw this, then perhaps she would ..."

"I don't think your sister would give a fuck about a million dead men on her doorstep, Tyrion," muttered Bronn, "She's far too gone for that."

Before Tyrion could respond, Jaime interrupted him,

"Bronn is right, brother. Without her children, I don't think Cersei will give a damn about anything. We are going to need every single soldier there is in order to have a chance against these things, and Cersei will never help us. I hate myself already for saying this, but she needs to go."

Rhaella and many others in the room nodded, but her eyes were upon Jon and Daenerys. When the wight had rushed out of the box, her daughter had almost leapt backwards into Jon, who held her there as the creature swiped at her. Until Jon moved to kill the wight, the two had not seperated. Now that they were closer, she saw her daughter reach out with her hand to have it grasped by her grandson, who gave it a firm squeeze. They kept holding hands up until the very last minute, and seemed to have a moment of unspoken conversation between the two of them. After they both nodded, they let go of their hands, and her daughter began to speak,

"We will begin the siege of the capitol shortly. In the meantime, the King in the North and I have an announcement to make tomorrow morning. Until then, I bid you all good night."

A few hours later, Rhaella found her daughter still awake in the library. She appeared to be almost frantically searching for something in a pile of books lain about around the table. Her hair seemed to be a mess as well. Rhaella stepped out of the shadows of the bookcase and sat at the table next to her daughter. She stayed silent until Daenerys finally sighed and sat down as well before speaking,

"Jon was just telling me about how he saw a giant shoot a man off the Wall from the ground. I've been in looking for any mentions of dragons wearing armor, just in case this Night King has turned some of those creatures."

"A smart decision to make. So, Jon was just here?"

Daenerys shifted in her seat before absentmindedly tucking her hair behind her ear before she quickly muttered out,

"Yes, he was just here when we were, discussing potential strategies for the upcoming campaign."

Rhaella said nothing, but instead looked at Daenerys' bruised lips, messed up hair, and the beginnings of a few small marks on her neck. She smirked and leaned back.

"I see. Did any of these sessions of discussing strategy result in making strides towards me becoming a grandmother?"

"Mother!"

Rhaella gave out a small chuckle as she reached out and grasped her daughters hand, who was currently red from blushing.

"Don't worry, daughter. I must admit, I and many of your council believed you and the King in the North to be almost apathetic towards each other. What and when did things change?" 

"That day that Jon showed us all the paintings in that mine, when we stayed back a bit. We kissed then, and haven't stopped since. That's all we've done, Jon doesn't want to bring a bastard into the world."

"I guess you will be waiting for after the wedding then, which I presume is what you two are going to announce tomorrow?"

Daenerys nodded, a soft smile on her face. Rhaella smiled as well as she got up.

"I am happy for you, and obviously approve. He is a good man. Now, you should get some rest for the big day tomorrow."

As soon as her daughter nodded and walked off, Rhaella turned away from her bedchambers. In silence she strode down towards the guests chambers until she made it to her destination. Before she even could raise a hand to knock, Howland Reed opened the door and stared at her. She straightened her shoulders and said to the Crannogman,

"It's time, Lord Reed. Tomorrow morning, we tell my grandson the truth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. If you did, please let me know in the comments below. They really help with motivating me to keep writing when things get rough in RL.
> 
> Sneak Peak:
> 
> "You think I give a damn about our blood? He lied to me! All this time, she was right under my nose, and he didn't even tell me if she even cared about me!"


	6. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R+L=J

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you saw, I rewrote this chapter. There were some parts that needed to be added and or removed. Please enjoy and stay tuned for more.

JON

Ever since the third or fourth knife, Jon hadn't really felt anything. He could barely feel the cold or the pain, or even the rage. The few days after he came back, and for a long time afterwards, he had wondered if he even really was back. Not even executing his murderers had given him any sort of satisfaction. He had taken control of what little forces Stannis had left, convinced the wildlings to help, and then went around securing alliances with some of the Northern Lords. On the road to Winterfell, he and Val had started a relationship, or at least they shared furs each night. However, while Jon's body had responded, and he could say the words, he could never feel them. He had felt loss when she fell in battle next to him, but by morning it was gone. When everyone started calling him Jon Stark, the one thing he had always dreamed of, he felt nothing. Not even when Baelish revealed who else was involved in the plot of his life did Jon find it in himself to care anymore. By that time he had resigned himself to the fact that Melisandre's ritual had failed, and that he was cursed to never feel anything anymore. Then he met Daenerys.

Their first meeting he had been drawn to her, unable to look away. He had barely heard Tyrion's remarks, so focused was he on the mother of Dragons. When they had shaken hands in the garden, he could feel it. As he spent more and more time with her, his attraction turned into something sharper, deeper, something with meaning, He had been the one to try and kiss her in the caves, and she had responded back by pushing him to the wall and kissing him back. Since then, they had used every opportunity to spend time together and kiss each other. One of the days they had gone riding in the early morning to a deserted part of the island, and had spent the morning eating a breakfast Jon had brought with them. Another time they had run into each other on their way to a meeting, and had stolen away into an empty corridor. Whatever the reason was, Jon did not know, but he could finally feel again, and he felt only love for Daenerys. He had told her the same, the night before he left the library, and she had replied it was the same for her. While they knew their marriage had its political benefits, they were comforted by the fact that both of them wanted it.

It was still early in the morning when Jon made his way to the training grounds of Dragonstone. Like always, his new sparring partner was there ahead of him. A few others had gathered, probably to see the two of them spar, one of whom was Jaime Lannister. His feelings on Tyrion's brother was complicated. While he respected the man for making the right choice in a difficult situation, he had also been the man who helped hurt his family. For now, he had decided to ignore the man. Queen Rhaella had stopped by from time to time to watch him spar as well, as did her daughter. Before his mind could travel down that path, he shook his head to clear it. He needed a focused mind if he wanted to face Ser Barristan Selmy. The older knight called out before tossing him a tourney blade.

"Are you ready, King Jon?"

The King in the North gave a quick nod, and in a flash the two were dancing with their blades. Back and forth, left and right, Jon's mind was blank of all but the fight in front of him, his opponent putting all his focus into it as well. Jon had never been a good dancer, but he could fight. It was one of the only things he knew he was good at, though he hated the killing. After trading a few blows back and forth, Jon feinted and twirled his blade up to Ser Barristan's throat, holding it there for a moment. Breathing a little heavily, the older knight gave a smile and nodded. Both of them went to the benches to grab a drink, and found both Ser Jaime and Bronn waiting there. The Lannister knight was looking at him weirdly, and said,

"How the hell did you manage to defeat Ser Barristan that quickly? Who trained you?"

"Ser Rodrik Cassel was the Master at Arms at Winterfell, he trained me until I left for the Wall. Then I trained myself, when I could spar with others."

Bronn gave a low whistle.

"If that's you with barely any real training, I'd hate to see what you could have done had you been properly trained."

Jon was about to reply when Missandei appeared from the balcony and called out,

"King Jon, Ser Barristan, your presence is requested. If you would follow please?"

Along the way, the two found Daenerys also walking towards the Chambers of Aegon's Painted Table. The two monarchs fell in line with each other and Ser Barristan took a few steps forward to give them some privacy. Jon looked over to Daenerys and whispered to her,

"So what's this meeting about? I thought we were telling everyone this afternoon."

"We are. I didn't call this meeting, my mother did. There is something she needed to tell us before we made the announcement, but I don't know what it is."

An odd sense of foreboding passed through Jon, but he pushed it to the side. Right before the two entered the room, Daenerys pulled him to the side and gave him a searing kiss, which he returned. After a few breathless seconds, they pulled apart.

"Not that I'm complaining Dany, but what was that for?"

"This meeting is probably going to be tedious and boring, and I wanted to give you something to think about during it."

As the two walked into the mostly empty room, Jon noticed three things. The first was that the only two people waiting in there was Queen Rhaella, and Lord Reed. The second was that there was a chest on the table with emblems of dragons and wolves carved into it. The third and final thing were the looks upon the Queen Mother and the Crannogman, both of the grave and important kind. Jon had a sinking feeling that this meeting was going to anything but boring, and from the look on Dany's face, so did she.

… … ...

A chair was the first to feel his wrath, as Jon threw it across the small room with a bellow. The truth had propelled him on some random path through Dragonstone from the Painted Table, where Lord Reed and his grandmother had sat. Somehow he had made it to a small room with a desk, few bookshelves, and simple bed pressed to the side. The low roll of thunder outside had masked the sound of the chair breaking into splinters, and it had also covered the sound of the door opening and closing again. Jon could feel her presence behind him, and halfway turned to face his aunt.

"How did you find me?"

"Once again, it would appear that Ghost brought me to you. He's outside in the hall."

That was the second time his direwolf had led the Queen to him in a moment of trouble, but he refused to look into that too much. At least for now. Somehow, with a second presence in the already small room, Jon felt his rage evaporate, and he fell to the ground, his back leaning against the bed. For a moment, neither said a word, but merely looked each other in the eyes. Eventually Daenerys sat down next to him, only a foot or so away from each other. Like she had done in the dungeons, her hand reached out in the space between them, and after a small moment, Jon's hand reached out as well. His voice was dull and quiet.

"Did you know?"

"No, not until my mother and your bannerman just told us. I knew you had to have had some Valyrian blood with the way Drogon reacted to you, but I would have never guessed this."

Jon grasped her hand and squeezed it a bit before keeping hold of it. His mind was racing from one thought to another, analyzing every single moment of his life, but she was the one constant. Already, she was his anchor. The sound of her voice seemed to be coming from another continent, but when he realized she was speaking to him, he refocused on her words.

"I do apologize for the abrupt manner in which this revelation was sprung upon you, and understand if it has made you upset."

"I am upset, but not at them. I'm grateful to finally know who my mother was, but they're not who I am furious with."

Her face scrunched up in a confused frown, and her voice was hesitant,

"Who then holds your rage? Is it us, what we have done?"

Jon pulled her hand even closer, shaking his head.

"Us? You think I give a damn about the fact that we share blood? My rage is to the man who owed me the truth, and kept it from me."

"Lord Stark? But he saved your life, took you in as his own."

Jon sprung up from the ground, his fury back and coursing through his veins.

"Oh, so for that reason I shouldn't have questioned him or feel enraged by what he didn't do? Simply because he didn't murder a babe or leave it in some gutter town? Is that the difference between heroes and commonfolk? All you have to do is spare the life of an innocent babe, and all of a sudden you're the most noblest, most honorable, most heroic man in the world? Well, fuck Ned Stark, and fuck his honor too!"

"You don't mean that, he was your father, you were his son."

"I wasn't his son, I was his shame! All my life, I was treated as if I was less than everyone else, that my very existence was sin itself. It didn't matter what I did, how many innocent babes I saved, all I would ever be known for was the one mistake this supposedly good man made. And I didn't care about any of that! I didn't care that everyone looked down on me, that my clothes were piss poor, or that I'd never have some sort of future. All I cared about was my unknown mother, and he kept everything about her away from me! What did he think I was going to do? Stake my claim upon the throne and demand my uncle's fealty? If he had told me, I still would have gone for the Wall just to protect them from Robert and the Lannisters. Instead, he told me nothing, and would have kept knowledge that was rightfully mine away from me, simply because it was a difficult truth."

Daenerys said nothing, merely letting him scream his frustration into the storm. After a few moments of silence, Jon began to speak in a hollow voice,

"You know, ever since I was crowned King, I kept having this dream. I'd be hearing petitioners and in the back would be a woman with her hood drawn up. When it was her turn to speak, she would just take her hood off, and I'd know that she was my mother. And there would be a reason that she couldn't be there before, but whatever it was it wouldn't matter, because she was here now. I'd go to every possible petition there was, just in case my dream came true, just in case my mother would be there. But she never was there, because she was already down in the crypts below me, where she had been my entire life. All through my life I kept hoping my mother would show up, and it turns out, she was always there. And he kept that from me. I will always be grateful for my Uncle for taking me in and raising me at Winterfell, but I will never forgive him for keeping my mother from me."

Daenerys nodded at that, before pushing to her feet and dusting her dress and trousers off. He watched with some trepidation as she began to put on her queenly persona, an armor he had spent the last month or so getting past.

"I understand where your rage is coming from, your Grace. I also understand that if current circumstances have changed your mind about the nature of our alliance, and I promise that I will still ..."

Jon didn't let her finish her words, as he was pressed against her in an instant, his lips up hers, his tongue begging for entrance, and after a moment, finding it. They stayed there in their embrace for an eternity it felt like, until they both pulled away, breathless. Jon rested his forehead upon hers, taking the moment to wrap his arms around her, with her doing the same.

"It doesn't change anything. I meant what I said to you last night before your mother walked in. I love you, Daenerys. That hasn't changed, that will never change, no matter what. Even if everything I know changes, I know that I will always love you. So once again, will you marry me?"

He could see her tears stream down her face as she responded,

"I meant what I said earlier too, Jon. I don't care what your name is, you are mine."

With that the two enveloped each other in another searing kiss, falling into the bed behind them together, and staying there for some time.

RHAELLA

If looks could kill, Howland Reed would be a dead man. After her grandson had almost run from the room, with her daughter rushing after him, she was left alone with the man who ruined it all. He remained sitting as she turned to face him, his face without any hint of shame or regret.

"How dare you," Rhaella hissed, "How dare you just blurt out the truth like that when you were the one who said we should have done so gently."

"My king commanded me to get to the point, and I followed his commands."

Rhaella threw her hands up in the air.

"So if he told you to fling yourself from the cliffs, you would? Are you that blind in your loyalty?"

"If my King gave a command, I would follow it without hesitation."

The small crannogman was sent tumbling to the ground by the force of Rhaella's backhand. As he tried to spring up, Ser Barristan stepped forward with his hand on his sword. Rhaella hissed out,

"My husband had loyal men just like you, and they allowed him to commit atrocity after atrocity simply because they were loyal. Now, get out of my sight, and do not go near my grandson or I will have you thrown in the dungeons."

Howland Reed merely narrowed his eyes, but walked away without a word. Rhaella moved back to the table and slumped down upon one of the chairs, facing the open balcony. She watched without seeing as the rain and waves crashed upon the island fortress, and for what seemed like hours, it was all she knew. Suddenly her son's voice, tinged with a northern accent, called out from behind her.

"Grandmother?"

She spun around to see her grandson and daughter in the entryway to the room. Jon was standing there, looking a bit hesitant, but that all changed when Rhaella held out her arms and he ran into them. For a moment she held her grandson in her arms, letting him quietly sob into her shoulder. She barely noticed the change of clothes the two had on, but did notice when Daenerys tried to slip away. Neither Jon nor Rhaella let her, and for a little while longer, all three Targaryens simply held each other close, finally reunited.

An hour or so later found them still at the Painted Table, talking into the morning. Daenerys had stepped out to let their advisors know that they would be postponing the meeting, but quickly made her way back in. Rhaella saw the way they had seemed to be even closer now, but didn't comment on it. Some details a mother or grandmother just did not want to know. Jon was still almost ranting, but he had moved from rage to mere questions, ones that Rhaella tried her best to answer.

"My dear, it was never your father's intention to leave Elia and her children defenseless. He ordered them all to leave for Dragonstone, but Aerys stopped them from going and held them prisoner in the capitol. By the time Rhaegar heard they were still in the capitol, the armies were about to meet at the Trident. If he could, I know he would have rode back and smuggled them to safety."

"But why was he fighting against the rebels in the first place? You said it was the goal of my father to depose Aerys, so why not join with the rebels?"

"As cruel as he was, your grandfather still had many loyal followers, ones that would follow him and House Targaryen till the very end. If Rhaegar had joined with the rebels at the Trident, he ran the risk of Aerys killing Elia or the children to punish him. From what little he told me, he believed the only way to get the rebels to listen was to stop them in battle first, and then force a parley with the survivors. Only the gods know if that might have worked."

Jon was quiet for a moment as he looked towards the now clear skies. Rhaella wondered how many thousands of thoughts rushed through his brooding mind as he sat there. Finally he sighed and looked towards the northern part of the table.

"As much as it pains me to say it, we can't tell the North, at least not yet. Even with Robb's Will, and the proof of the Army of the Dead, my rule is still too fragile to reveal such a revelation. The North remembers, but they are selective in their memory indeed. I'm sure that if Rickon wasn't half mad, and I had not have shown the wights to them, they would have already killed me in my sleep months ago. We need the full support of everyone in the wars to come, and a marriage between a Stark and a Targaryen is the only way their foolish pride would allow them to accept it. Perhaps in spring we can tell the truth, but not during the wars to come."

"How do you think they will respond, when they hear of our shared blood?" asked Daenerys.

Jon scoffed.

"They will whine, but let them. I may be of the North, but I already gave my life to it once. I will not deny myself love and happiness simply because a few people might be uncomfortable with it. I don't care what they will say."

"I assume then, that the wedding is still on?"

Both her daughter and grandson nodded fiercely, and she couldn't help but smile as Jon quickly said, 

"As soon as possible, perhaps even tonight."

"Splendid. I believe we should let your advisors into the room and let them know the good news."

As Rhaella suspected, no one was surprised at the announcement. She kept an eye on Tyrion, who appeared to want to say something, but finally thought better of it for once. Everything was going wonderfully as the group prattled on about the political aspects of the marriage when a young boy rushed into the room and went straight for the Spider. As Lord Varys read the note that was handed to him, his blank expression turned fearful.

"Grave news, your Graces. It would appear that Cersei has been killed by her new husband, Euron Greyjoy, shortly after their wedding. He set sail for Dragonstone soon after, and his fleet should be here any day now. The storms seemed to have covered his tracks."

The room erupted into a cacophony of voices as everyone began to voice their opinions. Suddenly both the howl of Ghost and the roar of Drogon quieted the room immediately, and everyone turned to face the two monarchs, who stood together at the table. Daenerys said in a commanding voice,

"This changes none of our plans. If Euron is so foolish to attack Dragonstone with his fleet, then they will burn just as the fleets of Astapor and Yunkai did. I expect our forces to begin for the defense of the island straight away."

"Today we plan the wedding between her Grace and I. Tomorrow we plan for war."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poll Question  
> We are nearing end of season 7 in this fic. Do you want me to take this fic into Season 8 and continue the journey there?


	7. Wake the Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for Dragonstone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, sorry for the delay. I just got a promotion, and was put in charge of a lot stuff at work, so my focus had to be there. I think I'm finding the balance again, so stay tuned.

RHAELLA

Royal weddings had never been a happy occasion for Rhaella. She remembered spending her wedding to Aerys looking for Bonnifer, frantically hoping against hope that he would reveal himself and declare his love for her. Her first born's first wedding had been as emotionless as a transaction with the Iron Bank, the very picture of a political alliance. She wondered how his second wedding to the Lady Lyanna had gone. Had they been so deeply in love that the threat of the upcoming war was forgotten, or was their small wedding overshadowed by that fact. However it had happened, she took some comfort in knowing the wedding between her daughter and grandson was a happy and joyous affair. When the septon told the two to kiss, their embrace had been very passionate. The following feast had been full of laughter and music, during which Rhaella spent some time with the delightfully entertaining Tormund, who shut up after a few minutes, and also with Ser Davos, the Onion Knight. His wife Marya, and their two remaining sons, Steffon and Stannis had arrived a few days ago, and were currently in awe of almost everything. She had watched warily as Howland Reed came up to the main table and presented her grandson and daughter with a small set of books as a wedding gift, but later learned that they were the journals of Rhaegar and Lyanna that he had found in the Tower. As she expected, neither monarch wished to partake in the bedding ceremony, and calmly made their way to their chambers, leaving the rest of the revelers to enjoy the night.

However, as most things go, all good things must come to an end, and morning came quite quickly. Nobody was too surprised when Jon and Daenerys arrived a little later than the rest of their councilors, but none said a word until they sat down at the table. Daenerys was the first to speak,

"Thank you for joining us. As we all know, the Ironborn fleet is on their way here to attack Dragonstone. Thanks to the fishing barges and trading vessels from the Reach, Grey Worm and the Unsullied have made it back to the island. We need to figure out a way to prepare for the attack, so shall we begin?"

Rhaella tried to pay attention to the war strategies as much as she could, but found it difficult. She was raised to be a princess, and later queen, not a warrior, like her daughter had been forced to learn. As Jon began to speak up, she leaned forward and tried to keep her mind on his strategy.

"If we can trick Euron into believing that the dragons aren't on Dragonstone, he might try to take the island by surprise and quickly land on this beach. It is the only spot on the island that can hold multiple ships in the bay. It also has two reefs on either side. If we can get him to commit to sending most of his navy inside this bay, and then have the dragons burn the outer ring of ships, then he will be trapped. If her Grace and the dragons would make a show of flying off into the mainland nearby Euron's approaching fleet, but then turn around and land on Driftmark to await a signal."

Ser Barristan nodded,

"There is an old tower on the cliffs closest to Driftmark that has been used as a signal beacon. It could work."

"Qyburn had made a prototype weapon that he claimed could kill your dragons, your Grace," said Ser Jaime, "A larger, more powerful, version of the ballista the Dornish used to kill Meraxes. We brought the only working version with us to Highgarden, and I can only assume it returned to King's Landing. I would not be surprised if Euron has brought it on board his ships, along with arming every reaver with a bow or crossbow."

"How many of these weapons has this Qyburn made?"

Jaime shrugged, but Bronn stepped forward and spoke up,

"I overheard one of the lads talking about working on one of those scorpions for Qyburn. He said around a few weeks per scorpion, so if they kept up the building, there's probably about ten of them. The good news is is that those things were big and heavy. If that squid has them on his ships, they'll be on the ten biggest ships he's got, so you know which ones to avoid or which ones to target first."

Rhaella noticed Tyrion frowning, and began to frown as well when he began to speak,

"Like everyone else in this room, I am of the opinion that we need to deal with Euron as quickly as possible. However, I must ask if there is anyway we can do so without having you enter the battle yourself, your Grace."

"There is not, Lord Hand. Rest assured, I will be wearing armor during this fight."

There was a look of frustration upon Tyrion's face, but he nodded nonetheless. Rhaella was glad he had stopped questioning her daughter at every turn, though she knew he only meant well. The rest of the meeting went by with a blur, and she soon found herself alone in the Painted Table with her daughter and grandson. They spent the rest of the morning breaking their fast and reading the journals Rhaegar and Lyanna had written. Both had seemed to have had worries of not surviving their upcoming conflicts, and therefore had written a few letters addressed to Jon. Her young grandson had to pause every now and then to wipe the tears from his eyes as he read them. A few days passed, and preparations were made for the upcoming attack, until Euron's fleet was seen by a scout on Driftmark. He would arrive on Dragonstone within the afternoon. As she said a temporary goodbye to her daughter and grandson as they made their way to their army, a moment of fear rushed through her body, but she ignored it. Rhaella had not survived this long just to lose her family to a common pirate. She dried her tears and made her way back to the Painted Table, the balcony giving her an overview of the beach where the battle was to take place.

JON

Like almost every other plan, it did not survive first contact with the enemy. As his wife and the dragons left the island, fog began to trickle in and soon enveloped the shores and horizon. Before, the isle of Driftmark was visible in the distance, but no more. Euron also surprised them by bombarding the shoreline and beach with an assault of trebuchets, smashing through most of the wooden blockades they had hastily erected in the days before. As such, most of his fleet landed unchallenged, and a far great deal of Ironborn landed as the first wave of attackers. Still, when they charged upon the shield wall of the Unsullied, the wall held. Euron kept sending more and more reavers up the beach, and it began to take a toll on the defenders. The wall finally broke when the Crow's Eye aimed the ten scorpions made to kill dragons at the Unsullied soldiers, launching the large spears through their ranks and opening up holes throughout the line. It was now a free for all on the beaches, and Daenerys was nowhere to be seen.

Jon jumped to the side as an axe crashed down into the ground, bringing Longclaw up and through the torso of an Ironborn sailor. At his side, Ser Barristan neatly dispatched another, while Ghost tore out the throat of one on the ground. He looked to cloudy skies once more, hoping to hear the familiar roars of the dragons. The signal fire had been lit a minute ago, but it felt like it had been hours for Jon. The Dothraki had even joined the fray, riding back and forth along the beach, but it still wasn't enough. He growled in frustration before calling out to Ser Barristan,

"Gather around me and protect my body while I make contact with the Queen!"

The older knight moved without hesitation, though Jon could see the look of confusion upon his face. He was grateful for the man's loyalty and trust though. Properly covered by a wall of shields from Northmen and Unsullied alike, Jon knelt in the sand for a moment, closing his eyes and shutting out the sounds of the battle around him. Almost instantly he could feel the cold pull of Ghost, a few dozen yards away, ripping out the throat of a pirate. He ignored that familiar call and dug deeper into his mind, searching for the scorching inferno that had been burning in his mind since he set foot on the island. A few short seconds passed until suddenly he felt like he was being thrown headfirst into a volcano, and then he was no longer on the beach of Dragonstone.

\---

His mother sat upon his older brother, armed in the strange shiny cloak, and stared in frustration towards their home. He did not understand why they were here instead of at home. Home was where the two other dragons were, his mother's mother, and the dragon with wolf fur, who had recently mated with his mother many times the previous night. He had tried speaking to the dragon with wolf fur many times, just like his younger brother had tried to contact the older two legged dragon, but neither had any success. He and Viserion had whined about it to their older brother, but he had no advice but patience. It was easy for him to speak of patience. He already rode with mother. All of a sudden he could feel the dragon with wolf fur, whose name was Jon but also Jaehaerys, reach out to him through the connection they shared. Feelings of panic and worry spread across his mind, along with an image of a large fire atop a tower in their mother's home. Rhaegal remembered his mother speaking of waiting here on this island till they could see that fire on top of the tall round stone hut, but the fog blocked their sight, but the dragon with wolf fur was saying the fire was burning. He called out to his brothers, telling them of what he saw. As Drogon began to get ready for the fight, he could hear their mother call out,

"What is it? Can you see the fire Rhaegal?"

He nodded and nudged his head towards the cloud of fog that enveloped their home. She frowned for a moment, then looked back at him with a puzzled expression.

"Jon?"

The second nod galvanized her into action. With a roar, all three dragons jumped off of the cliff side, opening their wings and soaring into the skies above. The wooden creatures the two legs traveled upon when in the waters would burn just like they had in their old home, back in the hot place with sand. As they began to approach the beach with the wooden creatures, Viserion's head whipped to the stone fortress and flew off. As Drogon called out to their youngest brother, Viserion roared out that the other dragon, the older one was in danger inside the stone house. Men from the beach were already inside.

\---

Jon returned to himself with a startled gasp, scrambling in the bloody sand for a moment before his wits came back to him. The connection between him and Rhaegal had been intense, almost like his connection with Ghost, but in a different fashion. He pushed himself to his feet, gasping out to Ser Barristan,

"The Queen is on her way, but there are men inside of Dragonstone already. They must have snuck around the island somehow!"

With that Jon took off towards the Targaryen fortress, Ghost and Ser Barristan close behind him. Fear coursed through his veins, but he channeled all of it into the white hot rage that for so long he had held at bay, letting only bits and pieces out during times of need. Now was such a time to let it all out, to not hold back one ounce of his rage. His grandmother, who had only found but a few days ago, was in danger.

RHAELLA

"Your Grace, we must take to the side passages. Euron and his men are coming to the Painted Table now." said Jaime urgently.

Rhaella looked to the Onion Knight's children, who had joined her in the chambers of the Painted Table an hour ago. She shook her head once.

"They are looking for me, and will keep looking until I am found. Who knows who they might kill along the way. No, you are to take these children to safety, and make your way to the King to bring reinforcements."

Jaime looked like he was about to argue, so Rhaella took a step forward and grabbed his remaining hand. She spoke fiercely,

"I am ordering you to leave me and save the children. It is what my daughter and grandson would tell you to do as well."

The words seemed to pass over Jaime for a second or two, before he froze in shock. His voice was barely a whisper,

"Grandson? What are you, do you mean, is he?"

She nodded once more, pushing him towards the side passage along with the children.

"I am, Ser Jaime. You can still honor the promise you gave to Rhaegar. Now go, now!"

As the false wall closed behind them, Rhaella could hear the pounding of footsteps approaching. She made her way to the balcony, looking over the bay to see that her daughter had already sent most of the Ironborn fleet into flames. She could also feel a familiar presence approaching the open balcony fast, one she had avoided due to fear, but no longer. She was a dragon, like Visenya and Rhaenys and her daughter. No more would she be at the mercy of anyone. She turned around as the door was smashed open, and about six or seven Ironborn stormed into the room. At the front of their party was a man with a single cold blue eye, looking at her with a smile that reminded her of Aerys.

"Lord Greyjoy, have you come to surrender yourself for your acts of treason against my daughter?"

The Crow's Eye laughed, holding his arm out to stand his men down.

"So the rumors about the Dragon Queen's mother are true. Actually, Queen Rhaella, I have come to ask your permission to marry your daughter."

"My daughter is already happily married to Jon Stark, the King in the North. Although, knowing my daughter as I do, even if you were the last man in the world she would not even spare a second towards you."

A small frown betrayed Euron's emotions for a brief moment, and he took a step forward. Rhaella took two steps backwards, now flush against the low balcony wall. A straight drop into the courtyard was below her. The winged presence in her mind grew closer.

"Well I can tell you that she is the only thing I think about, and besides, I doubt her new husband will last the day. I did offer a king's reward to the man who brought me his head. Now you are going to come with me, and together, we are going to convince your daughter that I am the only real King, and that marrying me is in her best interests."

"And if I refuse?"

The Crow's Eye smile faded, and his voice was cold and heartless.

"Then she can listen to your screams until she changes her mind."

Rhaella smiled at the presence now directly below her, confusing the men in the room. She affixed Euron Greyjoy with a look that stopped him cold as she simply pushed herself up and over the balcony ledge. A few moments of freefall passed, before she landed hard upon the warm scaled back of her fire breathing cream and gold grandson. She could see her daughter and dragon approaching fast, and looked into the Painted Table chambers to see Euron and his men sprinting away before Viserion could unleash his fire. Now all she had to do was figure out how to land the dragon she was flying on.

JON

The King in the North ran alone through the hallways of Dragonstone. Ser Barristan and he had been separated when a group of Ironborn inside the walls had ambushed them. He had faith in the knight's skills, but was relieved when Ghost ran back to get to him. He heard Viserion roaring nearby, and pushed through the wave of exhaustion just in time to make it to the throne room of his father's castle. As he did, a group of Ironborn ran out from the door that led to the Painted Table, and he instantly recognized Euron. For a moment no one spoke, both sides catching their breath.

"Well I had wanted to use your new wife's mother to persuade her, but I suppose torturing you would work as well. Men, take off his hands and rip out his tongue. No leave the tongue, for now. Daenerys need to hear you scream a bit."

As the Ironborn began to approach, Jon called out to Euron.

"You know, growing up in Winterfell, I always thought Theon was a bit of an ass. I did mourn him when you killed him though. However all he ever talked about was how brave his fathers and brothers were, how the Greyjoys never backed down from any fight. I guess when he was speaking of the courage of the Ironborn, he wasn't speaking of you."

Everyone paused and looked over at Euron to see his reaction. His eye was dark and his smile wide.

"Very well, you and I can dance first. And afterwards, I'll pass you around to the rest of my men, just like I'll be doing with both of those dragon bitches."

With that Jon let the rage consume him once more, rushing forward at Euron. As he and the Crow's Eye began to do battle, Jon noticed out of the corner of his eye a large white blur enter the throne room, and seconds later a man with golden hair. Both launched themselves at the nearby Ironborn, and the fight continued.

RHAELLA

As exhilarating as flying on a dragon was, Rhaella never felt as grateful for solid ground as she did when Viserion landed. Nearby she saw Daenerys neatly slide down the larger dragons back, she rushed over to her daughter. At the same time, Ser Barristan made it to the courtyard, his face bloody. He sighed in relief when he saw her, but began to frantically look around. Her fears were confirmed when the old knight called out,

"Is the King with you?"

"I thought he was with you!"

"We were separated on our way to find you, your Grace. He must be still in the castle."

At that moment Ghost, whose fur was covered in blood and guts and grime, burst out of the main doors, frantically whining at Daenerys. Everyone rushed forward and followed him into the throne room. Blood and bodies were everywhere, and Rhaella could see Euron's head a few dozen yards from his body. What truly held her and everyone's attention was the sight of Ser Jaime holding his good hand hard against the side of her pale grandson, blood covering both of them. Jaime looked up to see them enter and he cried out, his voice filled with fear and alarm,

"Get the Maester, now!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like the chapter? Leave a comment below.  
> Also are there any scenes or interactions you would like to see that haven't already happened?
> 
> Sneak Peak  
> "It would seem that whatever option we chose, innocent people will suffer needlessly."  
> "Perhaps not. Though you will not like this idea either."


	8. Different Roads Lead to the Same Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath and cost of the battle, an unlikely alliance, and a stranger threatens the Queen

RHAELLA

Her grandson was fine. The worry in Ser Jaime's voice had been from him seeing his scars from the Night's Watch, and the blood had been from his enemies. He had passed out after his fight due to pure exhaustion, though after fighting a battle on the beach, attempting to warg into a dragon, sprinting up the steps from the beach to the cliffs where the castle sat, and then fighting another half dozen foes would probably make any man or woman tired. It had been a week since the battle, and he and Daenerys had taken to their chambers for the majority of that time in order to recover, and do many things, according to her daughter. She left it at that, and Rhaella didn't push. Neither did any of their councilors. Everyone was far too busy with removing the charred hulls of the ships from the Ironborn navy out of the bay. A few ships from the North had arrived to help with the process, but things were still moving slow.

A gentle nudge from Viserion drew Rhaella back to her very important task of rubbing his snout. Ever since she had ridden him for that brief moment until he landed in the courtyard, the young dragon would not leave her alone, not that she really minded. She was on the cliffs now, enjoying the time she spent with her scaled grandchild, though she still wished to be able to hold a grandchild in her arms again. One of the things she found she loved best about spending time with the dragons was that no one tried to bother her when she was with them, due to fear of upsetting the creatures. It was a blissful and peaceful time for her. As she made eye contact with Viserion, her mind couldn't help but to think of his namesake.

She had coddled Viserys all his life, protecting him from every imaginable threat she could think of, which usually included the boys father. She had wept when she had learned of what had happened to him, though she could not fathom his decisions. She had tried to limit his interaction with Aerys, but did the few times she failed to do so inflict enough damage upon the young boys mind? Did he go mad like the Targaryens had gone, or was the stress of living alone and on the run be the factor that changed him. She had always suspected that Duskendale had been the event that turned Aerys from odd to mad, could not a dangerous life in exile do the same? Once more, she swore that if Illyrio was still alive, she would have burned and flayed him slowly in revenge for keeping her children from her. They were in the same place for years, but he kept her below in a hidden room in the lower rooms, and never told her that her children were his guests, or that they were even alive. She would never forgive herself for not being there.

Suddenly Viserion moved away and looked over her shoulder towards something. She glanced back to see the small distinct form of Lord Tyrion a ways away, patiently waiting for her to return and speak more of politics no doubt. A part of her wished she could have her dragon growl at the Lannister until he scrambled away for disturbing her peace, but she quickly shook her head at the idea. Tyrion would not have walked outside the castle and gone near the dragons if there wasn't something he absolutely needed to speak about. The fact that he was seeking her out, and not the Queen was also telling. So with great reluctance, she nudged for Viserion to take off, and made her way to the Hand of the Queen.

"So the dragons have found their riders. You have made a bond with Viserion, and from the reports I heard of the battle, Jon has bonded with Rhaegal."

"It would appear so, Lord Tyrion. What do you wish to speak of?"

They began to make their way back to the castle, though at a slower pace. Tyrion also seemed to gather his words for a great deal longer than normal, something that increased Rhaella's worry. This was not to be good news.

"I have realized that an issue is about to come up in our next meeting that might divide the King and Queen in their answer to it. Both of their expected answers would be, to a degree, the correct ones, which of course complicates things further. However I believe I have come up with a solution that could possibly prevent such a conflict from occurring before it even starts. You will not like it though, and neither will their Graces, but I cannot think of anything else."

Rhaella was quiet for a minute or so, and Tyrion waited patiently.

"What is this problem you speak of, and how do you think we can solve it?"

Tyrion was wrong. She didn't not like it, she hated it. With every ounce of her skin she hated it, and for a moment she almost wanted to fling Tyrion from the cliffs for daring to suggest such a thing. But regardless of what she felt about his idea, she knew he was right. She had to do it, for her daughter and grandson. Rhaella finally sighed and nodded.

"Very well, Lord Hand. You will have my support in this when it come up."

DAENERYS

There was a stranger in their room. Daenerys could hear someone rummaging through their things on the other side of the door. Taking a deep breath, Daenerys pushed the door open and strode in to find a young girl with light brown hair and blue eyes holding the blankets from their bed in her arms. She dropped them and began to frantically say,

"I'm sorry, your Grace, I didn't mean to be here when you came back from your baths. I just thought it would be good to come back to clean sheets. I can leave if you would like it."

The Queen relaxed a small bit, though she didn't let it show. She took another look at the girl, but couldn't recognize her from anywhere.

"I didn't ask for out bedsheets to be washed, and I don't recognize you. What's your name?"

The girl looked down from the intense gaze, before replying,

'My name is Lyarra, your Grace."

"You're from the North? Are you part of Jon's, the King in the North's retinue?"

Daenerys saw the girls eyes widen at her mention of Jon, but she kept her voice calm,

"I came a couple months ago, on one of the ships that made it's way to Dragonstone. Is the King in the North here?"

"My husband is currently overseeing the mining of the dragonglass caves."

As soon as Daenerys said the words husband, the girl's entire demeanor changed. For a brief moment there was shock and surprise, and she exclaimed in a much younger voice,

"Jon's married?"

Daenerys narrowed her eyes and the girl seemed to freeze up.

"We were married a few weeks ago, and everyone on the island was invited to the feast. If you have been on the island for a few months, how did you not know of this? Who are you, and why do you care about Jon?"

"A girl has no name," the maid replied, "But will not answer another question unless Daenerys Stormborn wishes to answer her questions as well."

A Faceless man! Now Daenerys wished she had taken up Jon's requests to train her with some sort of weapons or some way to defend herself. She supposed it wouldn't have really mattered, the skills of the Faceless Men were legendary. She had to figure out someway to get the attention of someone outside of the room. She noticed the girl was now holding a thin Braavosi fencing blade at the ready, and she asked in a clear voice,

"Did you force Jon to marry you so that you could take the Northern Kingdoms away from him?"

"No. When the wars are over, Jon shall rule the North and I the South, until an heir of ours is born, and they shall inherit all of our Kingdoms. Jon was the one to ask me to marry him. I would never try to take those Kingdoms from Jon, they swore fealty to him."

That had been a very long and tedious set of conversations between the two parties, with a majority of the North wanting to keep their independence, though with no plan to sustain such an idea. Jon had been of the opinion that their heir would inherit the Seven Kingdoms, refusing to believe in Dany's barrenness anymore than Rhaella had. For awhile, Dany had tried to ignore the two of them, but they had been getting to her. She found herself dreaming of a boy and girl with their features, and had prayed for Jon's seed to take hold every time they made love. While she was not pregnant yet, the fragile seed of hoping for a child had been planted within her heart once more. The girl seemed to notice something as she stared at her, and her expression softened for a moment, before hardening once more. This time, there was almost a hopeful tilt to the girl's voice.

"Do you love him?"

"More than anything, and if you dare to harm him, I will set my dragons upon you and dance in your ashes as you scream."

At that, the girl's entire posture relaxed as she sheathed her thin blade at her side. She grinned and reached up to pull at her chin, revealing a different face below the one she apparently wore. Her face was long, her hair was dark, and grey eyes just like Jon's peered at Daenerys. In fact she looked just like him. Her voice had a slight northern accent now,

"If that is the case, then I think we are going to get along quite well, sister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Jon's fine. Did you think I was going to give him the love of his life, and add in a grandmother's love just to kill him? I'm not that mean (looks over at GRRM and others).
> 
> So, what deal did Tyrion and Rhaella agree to? Why will Jon and Daenerys hate their idea? Where has Arya been? What's happening in King's Landing now that no ruler sits upon the Iron Throne? What's happening North of the Wall?  
> Find out soon!


	9. Dark Wings, Dark Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The threat Beyond the Wall becomes all too real, and House Targaryen must make a heartbreaking decision for the good of the Seven Kingdoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's me, I'm back with this story. The show and life took over, as well as another fic that I had spent some time writing, but I am back. We are about to be dealing with the Army of the Dead, and the situation up North (Which is very different from the Show, btw), and I wanted to wait and see as to how things would happen. Suffice it to say, my plan with how this story goes is VERY different from the show, so there's that. Thank you all for your patience and consistent asks to update, they helped me keep believing that you liked this story. I will be following this story till its end, and it will be the main focus of mine.

JON

"Euron didn't kill Cersei, that was me. I snuck into the Red Keep using a tunnel I found when we lived there and took Qyburn's face, then killed her. I guess the Crow's Eye just took advantage of the fact that the Queen was dead."

Not even her callous and unemotional tone of voice could dampen Jon's mood. His baby sister was alive! Jon remembered the rage and panic as he had tried to persuade the Night's Watch to march on Winterfell to save his sister from Ramsay's clutches, only for them to turn their daggers on him. When he came back, she was the only one on his mind. He convinced the Free Folk to march with him in order to survive, conviced Ser Davos to rally what remained of Stannis's men, and persuaded the Northern Lords to fight for Ned Stark's daughter, not his bastard. When Jeyne Poole had arrived at their war camp to reveal it had been her all along, as well as the fact that Ramsay had killed Roose and taken Rickon as hostage, Jon had wept for days, thinking his sister was truly lost. Killing the Bolton bastard with his fists in Winterfell's main courtyard had not satiated his wrath, nor had the dozens of soldiers he and Ghost had slain did anything. If Rickon and Winterfell weren't in dire need of assitance, Jon probably would have run away, maybe even back to the Wall. Suddenly a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

"I gather that you spent some time in Braavos, Lady Arya, but where else have you been?"

Everyone leaned in to listen to the young Stark girl's response. They were all in the Chamber of the Painted Table, having quickly made their way to it following Daenerys's call for a meeting. Walking into the room and seeing his wife and sister laughing at some joke had felt like some dream, and it continued to feel like one until Arya had rushed across the room and leapt into his arms.

"I paid a visit to the Twins and made Walder Frey a nice pair of pies, before I killed him and the rest of the male Freys."

"That was you? We thought Lord Edmure was lying when he said everyone was dead in the Twins, but when they let us pass and we retook Riverrun, everyone believed there was some sort of mutiny."

That had certainly been strange turn of events. It was only a month or so after Robb's Will had proclaimed him King in the North, and thwarting Baelish's assassination attempt had earned him the Vale, that Edmure Tully of all people had shown up to Winterfell. In his desperation to be reunited with his wife and son, Edmure had not even blinked at allying himself with Jon, and they had launched a quick and rapid reconquest of the Riverlands. They had been joined by the Blackfish, who had faked his own death in the Lannister's recapture of House Tully's castle. Together, the two of them had quickly taken Riverrun back, and it was Jon himself who delivered Edmure's young son back to him. With that, and his repeated promise that Rickon was his heir, Edmure had pledged the Riverlands to the new King in the North.

"After the Twins, I made my way to King's Landing, since Cersei was on my list. If I had known you were back at Winterfell, I would have gone there, but I heard from a few people that there was a new Lord Commander, and the old one, Ned Stark's Bastard, had died. So I thought you were dead. I've been in King's Landing ever since, hiding out with a smith from Flea Bottom I had befriended on my travels a few years back."

Before anyone could respond, it was Ser Davos who began to cough in shock and sputter out,

"Gendry?"

"Yes, that was his name, how do you know him?"

"I met him when he was here on Dragonstone, and helped him escape from Stannis. Why in the Seven Hells did he go back to King's Landing?"

Arya shrugged in a way so familiar that Jon had to smile.

"He said it was easier hiding right under their noses, and that no one paid him any attention."

Tyrion cleared his throat as everyone looked to him,

"I'm sure I can speak for everyone when I say that I am glad you are alive. Seeing as you have been living in King's Landing, I was wondering how the capitol has been doing these past few months. Also, how did you make it to Dragonstone?"

Arya scoffed,

"The city has gone to shit if you ask me. Everyone hates Cersei and Euron, but no one wants to speak up against them less they get dragged out of their homes and burnt to death in front of the Queen. That's right, she's executing them with wildfire. Ever since she learned of you lot landing on Dragonstone she closed all the gates and the docks, not letting anyone, not even merchants, leave or enter the city. Every district in the city is starving, except for the Red Keep of course. I managed to forge a decree by her Hand to distribute the remaining food across the city before I left, but it wasn't much. As for how I made it here, once I heard that there was a Jon Stark on Dragonstone, and that Euron was sailing to attack the Targaryen forces, I snuck onto one of his ships. During the night I got on a rowboat and rowed the rest of the way here, letting the fleet get there first. I arrived last night, and when I couldn't find Jon, I went looking for Daenerys."

"Now that there is no current ruler on the Iron Throne, what is the political state of King's Landing?" asked Tyrion.

"There isn't one. Euron was barely there a week before his wedding to Cersei, and I killed her a few days after, before he left to attack you lot. Cersei tried to keep as much information about the Dragon Queen away from the people as possible, but it didn't really work. I'm almost certain everyone is hoping that it will be you sailing back into the capitol, your Grace, and not Euron."

Jon watched in confusion as both Tyrion and Rhaella looked at each other and nodded. Before they could speak, a young boy rushed into the room and handed him a scroll with the Stark seal upon it. 

"Urgent news from Winterfell, King Jon."

Everyone was silent as they watched Jon break the seal and read the letter. A wave of emotion passed through him and he fell back into his chair. Dany immediately rushed to his side, peering at him with worry. He managed to breathe out,

"Bran, he's alive and is in Winterfell!"

"That is wonderful, you must be so happy." said Rhaella, smiling widely.

He tried to match his grandmother's smile, but it just wouldn't come. The rest of his long lost brother's message stole the joy of his return. His face was filled with fear, and he looked up to stare not at his wife or Rhaella, or not even his sister, but rather his friend Tormund. The red head giant seemed surprised to be the center of attention, and his face grew grim as Jon began to talk once more.

"Tormund. Tell me the horn in Mance's tent was the Horn of Joramun. Tell me the one we destroyed was the real thing."

"It wasn't. We found that one in a cave in the Frostfangs and nothing happened when we blew it. Mance just wanted to bluff you crows into thinking we could bring the Wall down. Why?"

Jon motioned at the scroll on the table.

"Bran said he saw the Night King digging up an old horn, and then he dreamed the Wall was falling from the Shadow Tower to Eastwatch."

Before anyone could speak, Howland Reed blurted out,

"Did he say his dream was green, your Grace?"

Jon looked at him in shock, before slowly nodding his head. Howland's face grew pale and he whispered out in shock,

"Then it is true that your brother is a Greenseer."

Dany frowned and looked over at the Crannogman, her face puzzled,

"I'm sorry, Lord Reed, but what exactly is a Greenseer?"

"They are powerful skinchangers that have been blessed by the Old Gods with visions of the future and the past, especially if they are in contact with weirwood trees. My son, Jojen, had these dreams, and while he and Meera were in Winterfell before the Ironborn attack, he had written to me saying that he believed Bran to have them as well."

Varys was the next to respond, his voice skeptical with an undertone of fear,

"So somehow, young Brandon has learned of the enemy's plan to breach the Wall using this horn?"

"The Horn of Winter is another name for it, and he has not learned of what the enemy is planning on doing, he has learned of what the enemy will do. Greenseers do not see what can or could happen, they see what will happen. And to be given such a direct green dream as the one he was given, it is inevitable that the Wall will fall."

RHAELLA

The entire room teetered on the brink of madness and chaos, and it was only the combined roars of their dragons that brought everyone to silence. For a moment, Jon stared down at the Painted Table, his expression troubled. She glanced over at Tyrion, wondering if now was the best time to bring up their plan, only for Jon to look up with a fierce look in his eyes.

"We need to evacuate the North, and we need to do it now. If the Wall was breached in one area, we could perhaps contain it, but if the Wall will fall all across it's length, then they would overwhelm us. Winterfell is no longer the best place to mount our defense either, the army of the dead could surround us, or simply pass right by us. We need some sort of choke point."

"Moat Cailin would be best, your Grace," Lord Reed began, "We have been building up it's southern defenses, but a raven could quickly turn the rest of the supplies to the Northern side. The bogs and marshes would help in slowing the dead down, and funneling them to a certain area."

Jon nodded looking over at Dany before saying,

"Send the ravens now. Tell them their King commands anybody that is not of fighting age is to head south to White Harbor and the Riverlands, and that we are to make our stand there at Moat Cailin. We cannot allow the Night King to gain any more soldiers."

Howland and the other Northerners nodded, and walked off to the rookery. It was then that Tyrion looked over to her and nodded once, his expression grave. This was not unnoticed by the King or Queen as her daughter turned to look at them and said sharply,

"What is it?"

"Tyrion and I have been discussing something the past few days, something that we need to do, even more so now with the news we have just learned. I ask you both to please listen to his plan in it's entirety."

The two looked over at the young Lannister, who appeared to be quite nervous, but after a moment steeling himself for the storm he was about to unleash upon himself.

"The dead are the true threat, I am not denying this, and we need to focus all of our military on stopping them. But we cannot simply leave the Iron Throne empty. We need the South to keep their borders open, their soldiers and food heading north, and without the Iron Throne, they will not listen. With the lack of a ruler, King's Landing will be easy to take, but we need to do so soon."

"You plan to separate us? Have my husband fight for his life alone in the North, while I play politics in the South?" her Daughter began to snarl.

"Not you, daughter," said Rhaella, "Even with Jon's bond with Rhaegal, your armies would not follow him blindly. They are loyal to you. I have agreed to stay in King's Landing, alongside Lord Tyrion and Ser Jaime, in order to take the throne in your name, and direct the aid of the south to the North."

As she and Tyrion feared, the effect of her announcement was instantaneous. Both her daughter and grandson were on their feet in an instant, begging and pleading for her not to go. Eventually it was Jon who threw his hands in the air, growling out in a pained voice,

"We just, I just, how can you leave us? Why would you even think of such a thing?"

She reached over the table to grasp his hand, pulling him gently to his seat,

"Because it must be done, dear Grandson. Out of everyone, who else can? The people of King's Landing know me, and they will listen to me. With the aid of Lord Tyrion and Ser Jaime, it should be easy to sway the loyalties of those who supported Cersei. We can bring some of the Wights you brought to show to the southern lords to convince them if needed."

The room was quiet, and Rhaella noticed that it was just the four of them, Ser Jaime and Arya having left sometime ago at separate intervals. Eventually Tyrion cleared his throat, speaking softly,

"If there was any other way, I would do it, but I have been thinking on this since before you showed us the wights. There are too many ambitious lords in the south who will view the empty throne as an opportunity, and we need to stop that from happening. We need to keep the kingdoms united, and they need to unite once more under House Targaryen."

Rhaella knew the moment that they had broken through to them when her daughter said firmly,

"Viserion will stay to protect you and to keep the peace. When you are able to, and it is safe, you will join us."

She nodded, not wishing to prolong their argument. It felt as if her heart was being ripped apart and burnt alive in front of her from just the thought of being separated from her family, but Rhaella knew her duty. She couldn't abandon it to do what she wished, she never had. If staying in the south and playing the game meant giving her family a better chance, then so be it. The next few weeks passed by in a blur, with their ships sailing back and forth from Dragonstone to King's Landing and White Harbor, transporting soldiers and dragonglass to their locations. That entire time the three Targaryens spent locked away together, doing as much as they could to not focus on their impending separation. A few days before they left, Rhaella found her daughter retching into a chamber pot, and a quick trip to the Maester confirmed her hopes. Jon held on to his hope that Dany would stay behind for only a second until logic and her daughter's pleas wore him down. She did agree to sail to White Harbor instead of fly, once it was confirmed that such a trip would not be harmful to the babe. The happiness that flowed from the King and Queen carried over into a massive farewell feast, where the wine and song flowed freely, and the halls were filled with laughter and smiles.

The next morning, a handful of ships sailed to King's Landing, and Rhaella stood on the top deck, watching as the remainder of the Targaryen Fleet sailed north, away from her and into darkness and danger, and she could not help but let the tears fall from her face for a few moments, before banishing them. She would return to them, even if she had to face every White Walker in the world, she would return to her daughter and grandson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you were able to guess what Tyrion and Rhaella's plan was, so congrats to you. As they said, this will not be a permanent thing, and Grandmother Rhaella will only be separated for at the very least one chapter, and maybe two.
> 
> Sneak Peek (one in the South, and one in the North)
> 
> "Lady Olenna, thank you for joining me, and on behalf of House Targaryen, welcome back to King's Landing."
> 
> "That didn't stop you before from conspiring with Baelish to kill me, Lady Hardyng."


	10. Author's Note

I'm sorry but this story is not going to be finished. There was not much left anyway but I as an author don't want to write anymore about the White Walkers or anything that has to rely on the showverse. I will answer any plot questions in comments below

The Targaryens won The Great War and ruled the 7k. No dragons were killed. Rhaella lived to a ripe old age surrounded by her many grandchildren/great grandchildren. Jon and Dany lived happily ever after.  
The End


End file.
